Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood
by WolfMoon
Summary: On a dark summer night, Harry walks straight into a situation that will change his life forever when a strangely familiar vampire saves from him a Death Eater. AU sixth year; some Canon; no pairings as yet. ABANDONED - if anyone wishes to pick this up, let me know.
1. Meetings

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Here is the first chapter in my re-write of Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood; I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the books belongs to JK Rowling, if you recognise stuff from the vampire lore I've included, I borrowed bits and pieces from a number of places, and also my imagination.

Summary: On a dark summer night, Harry walks straight into a situation that will change his life forever when a strangely familiar vampire saves from him a Death Eater. AU from sixth year. Some aspects of Canon will be introduced.

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_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter One: Meetings

Despite the fact that it was mid-summer, the night was dark and stormy, with the stars and moon completely concealed by the low-hanging black storm clouds. This turned what would have been a reasonably well-lit night into a dark and fearful one.

The streets were almost completely deserted – most of the residents had long since gone to bed, with the children grumbling about the wet, while the adults remarked optimistically that at least last year's drought hadn't continued. Gardens that had, a year before, been brown with want for water and neglect, were now flourishing. Bright flowers of all colours bloomed and the grass was emerald green, glowing with health. In the garages, cars gleamed with newly applied polish and frequent washing. Now, the stifling heat of the year before was a scarcely recalled memory.

A light sprinkling of rain was misting the night air, and the tarmac on the road glittered like crystals in the warm yellow glow cast by the streetlights. Soon the rain would get heavier, the sprinkle almost a warning, telling anything that might be out still to get under cover and shelter from the deluge to come.

But those who were still out at this late hour saw no need to heed the warning.

A lone young man walked down the empty streets, the misty rain covering him in a wealth of minute droplets, each of them glowing with all the colours of the rainbow as the street lamps shed their light upon him. He didn't notice the effect. Instead his haunted green eyes were focused intently upon the tops of his sneakers, which were falling apart on his feet.

He walked with his shoulders hunched and his head down, messy black hair falling into his eyes, though he made no move to push the strands away. He just didn't care. He was wearing a t-shirt that had been his cousins once, and it hung around his too-thin figure, the fabric itself so thin that it mostly stuck to his skin, even though the rain was still very light. The jeans he wore were the same, ripped in a couple of places, and belted around the waist so that they didn't fall down.

He didn't shiver, even though it was reasonably cool, and the rain made it even cooler. He didn't even seem to notice the temperature. All his thoughts were directed inward with such intensity that there was no room for the consideration of the physical world. Every night for the past two weeks since he had returned from Hogwarts, Harry James Potter had been out on the streets, wandering aimlessly around, for the sole reason that he needed to get out from Privet Drive and the Dursleys.

More so than any other year, Harry hated being forced to return to this place; Privet Drive seemed so alien to him now. Always, he had felt that it was, in some obscure way, right for him to come back here each year, even though every time he did he longed to be elsewhere. This year, however, even that obscure sense of belonging was gone, as if it had never been.

His heart ached with a peculiar sense of loss. He had always taken it for granted, that he could simply come here. He knew that his relatives hated him, and he hated them in return, with equal measure, but now that it was gone, he realized that he missed the feeling that he had a place here. That he had a place _anywhere_, for that matter.

That loss, however, was only minimal, a small grief added to a greater heartache. His godfather was gone. Sirius Black, the only man who Harry felt he could have regarded as his _true_ family, was dead. And now Harry really was alone. Green eyes filled with tears, but they did not fall. Somehow Harry managed to hold them in check once again, as he had every night since he had returned here.

His heart felt empty, the place where Sirius had once been was a black hole, sucking in all of Harry's positive emotions and leaving a void in their place. He tried to lock his memories and emotions away, but every time he thought that he had succeeded, they slipped around whatever he was using to block them, extending tendrils of pain through his mind and heart.

As well as grief, there was anger. He didn't belong here, so why was he still here? Because no one would let him leave. Every message that he had sent to the Order had been requesting that he be allowed to leave Privet Drive, and every time he received the same reply: _It's not safe for you to be anywhere else._

Harry sighed heavily. He wasn't sure where he wanted to be, anyway. While he didn't belong here, he didn't know where he did. He didn't want to stay with the Weasleys; watching them, with their close family relationship would have been like twisting a knife in his gut. Besides, Ron didn't understand, couldn't understand, what Harry was going through. Ron had always had someone there for him; he was unable to process the thought that there could be a time when there _wasn't_ anyone for you.

And that was what Harry was going through. He'd thought that there was no one, had pretty much accepted that with an air of cynicism. But then Sirius had appeared, and suddenly there _had_ been someone. Now that someone was gone, leaving Harry alone again. But it was worse the second time, because he knew what it was like to have someone.

He would not return to Grimmauld Place. To be in the place that had been Sirius's prison would have been worse than being with the Weasley's. Nor could he go to Hermione – she didn't understand him either. She seemed as incapable as Ron at comprehending what Harry was feeling. But she was worse, because she tried to understand, tried to talk to him about it, and Harry didn't want to talk, at least not unless it was with someone who had lost, as he had lost. And he didn't know anyone like that.

Except Remus.

Remus. Sirius's best friend, the only one of the Marauders still alive, someone that Harry might have been able to talk to…But Remus had shut out the world, retreating deep into himself to grieve, and there was no place in the werewolf's sorrow for anyone else, not even Harry.

He had been given leave from the Order, and had by all reports backed out of the war until he could deal with the grief. No one was entirely sure what he was doing; last Harry had heard the werewolf had been ignoring all correspondence and anyone who went to see him was met with silence or told tersely to leave.

And so Harry was left right back where he had started. He wished that school would start again. Then, at least, he would have something to take his mind off things. Ron and Hermione would be there, but whenever he needed to escape from them, it would be easy enough to slip away and be alone.

The two weeks that the holidays had so far lasted for, had seemed like an eternity. The Dursley's tried to be nice to him, but they were too used to treating him like dirt, and he was too upset to respond with anything other than a sullen silence. Aunt Petunia called him down for meal times, but on those occasions that he left his only remaining sanctuary he played with his food and ate little. They let him off his chores, so he locked himself in his room and didn't come out. They bought him a new bedspread, a warmer one, because the summer was colder than usual, which he had accepted without a word.

Dudley offered to let Harry play his computer, once, but Harry turned the offer down. Uncle Vernon called him whenever the news started, but Harry didn't want to hear about the latest suspicious disappearances. He didn't need to be reminded of the war that had torn away the only parental figure he had left.

And at night, as he wandered the streets, he was left alone with his thoughts and the foul weather. The Dursley's didn't know of his late night wanders. Each morning, just before dawn, he returned, had a shower and went to his room, which was where they found him every morning. He didn't leave the house until they'd gone to sleep. He gave them no reason to suggest that he was doing anything suspicious.

He knew that the Order didn't like his night time wanders, because they weren't _safe_, but he refused to give them up, and eventually they had stopped asking him to. But they had good reason to fear for his safety – they were in troubled times now, and one never knew where Voldemort would next strike.

It was Harry, after all, who Voldemort most wanted dead, but at the same time, it was Harry who he was afraid to directly attack – Voldemort didn't know the Prophecy. He couldn't be sure that if he tried to kill Harry again, the spell wouldn't backfire as it had fifteen years ago, and send Voldemort back to his half-life. But just because he wouldn't kill Harry didn't make the boy safe. If Voldemort could _capture_ Harry, then the boy could be no danger to him.

But Harry didn't care. He would not be imprisoned in a house he hated, as his godfather had been, driven stir crazy as Sirius had been. He would not let that happen to him. _He wouldn't let it happen._ He couldn't let himself be taken by the madness that had eventually taken Sirius; when the need to escape that was so great that one would be glad to take death over being imprisoned.

He did not hear the soft scuff of a foot against the path as a figure stepped out in front of him, didn't see the man who suddenly stood before him, just continued walking, placing one foot in front of the other, a monotonous movement that required no thought, leaving his mind free for other contemplations.

He did, however, notice when a cold, slimy voice spoke a soft incantation and ropes appeared from midair to bind him, ankles and wrists, and a gag appeared magically, keeping him from crying out in shock. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet, and he looked up, his damp hair still falling in his eyes, obscuring his glasses, making it hard to see the person in from him.

It was male, Harry could tell from the voice, but it was impossible to tell from the appearance of the figure before him. Tall, and wearing a fairly shapeless black robe, stood the figure, a silver mask covering his face. One hand was raised, clutching a wand. A triumphant gleam shone through the eye sockets.

_Death Eater_.

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Rodolfus Lestrange smirked beneath his mask. So, this was the oh-so-famous Harry Potter, the one who had somehow managed to survive confrontations with the Dark Lord time and again and had, through what could only be luck, managed to thwart several of the Lord's plans to return to life. The other Death Eaters spoke of the boy in hushed voices, when they spoke of him at all, in case the Lord took exception to them speaking of his enemy. They were wary of him, convinced that he was more powerful than he was.

The boy was supposed to be cunning, always somehow managing to escape the traps of the Death Eaters, even those the Dark Lord himself set, but now Rodolfus knew that there was no cunning about him, it was only luck. The right things just happened at the right time, always in the boy's favour.

He looked into the eyes of his Lord's greatest foe, and was surprised to find no fear in his prey's eyes. The boy looked up at him, messy hair falling in front of his eyes and obscuring his vision, but in his eyes there was no fear, or hopelessness.

There was a look of haunted grief, of anger, and a certain trace of disgust about him. As if Rodolfus was somehow lesser than this mere child, whom he had subdued so easily.

That unspoken judgement made him feel a sudden rush of anger; He was a Death Eater! One of those chosen to serve the Dark Lord, one the chosen few who would be given power beyond their dreams when the Dark Lord triumphed over this inferior society.

But the anger was somehow dimmed, not as strong as it might once have been. Rodolfus was aware of that difference in his emotions, and he knew its cause: Azkaban. The constant company of Dementors had worn away his emotions until he was unable to summon much more than irritation, when once unrivalled rage would flow through his veins.

And it was all Potter's fault. Had the stupid child not somehow managed to be luckier than any other man on the planet and survive the Dark Lord, Rodolfus would have never been sent to Azkaban. In fact, he would probably be sitting in a seat of power at Lord Voldemort's right hand, while all around them wizards and Muggles alike cowered in fear.

"Well, Potter," he murmured silkily, "You weren't so hard to capture. Not as hard as I had been led to believe…Didn't you know that wandering the streets at night all alone isn't a good idea for children?" His words reminded him of his wife Bellatrix, and the likenesses they shared. He was no longer sure whether he had rubbed off on her, or if it was the other way around. They just were, these days, and he could not remember ever being any different: both ruthless but impassive, their emotions eroded by Azkaban.

The expression on Potter's face didn't change, which made him angry – it always made him angry when they acted as if he had said nothing, or if what he said didn't get to them in any way.

"You might have had the others running around in circles, but it seems that your luck has deserted you now. The Master will reward me greatly for this service to him, and on the first night of the hunt too…It is I who will bring him his heart's desire, not any of his other servants. He knows my loyalty, but I will prove it over again by delivering _you_ to his fortress."

He was watching the boy's face still, and even the knowledge that he was being taken to the Master didn't seem to faze him. His face remained the same: that same disgust as he looked upon the Death Eater before him, and that made Rodolfus even angrier – his rage was beginning to surface again, it seemed. How _dare_ this puny child assume that he was somehow higher than one of the Dark Lord's own Inner Circle, one of the Chosen who would lead the Wizarding world in its purification?

"But we don't have to go straight to him, no … in fact, he would be disappointed if I don't take the chance to familiarize you with some of his favourite games. My Lord doesn't like it when his guests don't know all the rules, and it will be a _pleasure_ to teach them to you."

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Somehow Harry did not feel afraid, even though he knew what sort of 'games' the Death Eater was talking about – all of the Dark Lord's games revolve around torture, pain, and inevitable death. He did not think he knew this Death Eater, but then, that was unsurprising, considering that they were his enemies. There must be many that he had never had the misfortune of meeting in person.

The Death Eater raised his wand, and began to speak, "_Cru-_" but he was never given the opportunity to finish. A third being, also out on this foul night, leapt from hiding in a nearby tree, one powerful leap allowing him to clear the branches, and the fence, landing lightly, almost soundlessly, behind the Death Eater.

Rodolfus Lestrange never had the time to turn and see what this interruption was, as two hands shot up, one coming beneath in chin, the other on his forehead. With a single upward and backward jerk, the stranger snapped his neck, killing him instantly. The manner of death seemed almost ironic, given his predisposition to agonizingly slow murder.

Had he been able to speak, or make any sound at all, Harry would have gasped in relief and thankfulness … but his night was not yet at an end.

The man behind the Death Eater was by some means still holding the dead weight of the body upright. Without looking at Harry, he bared his teeth, and Harry watched with a morbid fascination as his rescuer's canines lengthened, and he pulled the cloak away from the Death Eaters neck, biting down delicately.

His rescuer was a _vampire_.

He wasn't even sure that the thing was his rescuer anymore, maybe it had just seen the opportunity for a meal and taken it … or maybe it had seen the opportunity for _two _meals. He couldn't move. The restraints that the Death Eater had placed on him held him tightly. He had tried freeing himself, when they first seized him, to no avail. He tried again while the vampire fed, once again without success.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the vampire released the body of the Death Eater, which crumpled to the ground, and looked straight at Harry. If he had been able to make a sound, Harry would have cried out in shock, for the vampire's eyes, like a cat's, were reflective, and they shone bright silver in the light of the street lamps.

Canines shortened, suddenly looking frighteningly normal. The vampire stepped over the dead body, now drained of blood, and moved gracefully, sinuously towards Harry. He moved with flawless elegance, and Harry took in his appearance. With a slim lithe yet strong body, the vampire looked to be only in his twenties. His eyes, when they weren't reflecting the light, were a silvery blue, and his lips curved in an almost _gentle_ smile.

Harry's eyes explored the vampires face: young, completely unblemished. Long black hair formed a messy halo around his features, which were thin and all too familiar. Rather than going for his neck, the vampire reached behind Harry's head, and Harry was sure that his neck was about to be snapped just like that of the Death Eater before him.

The vampire, however, seemed to have other ideas, and instead of killing Harry where he stood, he undid the gag and let it fall to the ground at their feet. For a moment, they stood staring into one another eyes, while Harry's mind screamed at him to do something – but the vampire had only given Harry back the ability to speak. His wrists and ankles were still bound.

But something about the vampire made Harry feel not afraid, but rather intrigued … the familiarity of the face irked him. He had his suspicions and if said suspicions were true, then he needed to know, needed to confirm. And if they weren't, well, he was no worse off than he had been before. Death, he was sure, would feel as numb as life right now. So he spoke, a single, confused syllable that hung in the air between them, ringing with importance.

"_Dad_?"

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Chapter edited 20 October 2008

Author note:

Small changes in sentence structure have been made for this chapter.

WolfMoon


	2. Offers

Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Things you recognise come from JK Rowling or the authors of vampire novels that I've read before.

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_**Harry Potter and the Ties off Blood**_

Chapter Two: Offers 

For a moment, the word hung between them, palpable in the stormy night air. Then the vampire gave a soft chuckle and stepped behind him, undoing the bindings on his wrists, then his ankles, speaking, "No, Harry, I'm not James – though I am a Potter. Resemblance has always been strong in our family."

Now free to run, Harry hesitated, the vampire's words effectively cancelling his instinct to bolt. He had another relative? One he hadn't heard of before? His mind was reeling with the possibilities of where this could lead … somewhere better than where he was now, if he had any kind of luck.

"We're related?" he asked, his voice conveying all of his surprise. "But … you're a vampire!"

"Yes we are and yes I am, as I think I demonstrated quite adequately with that Death Eater," the man said with a faint smile. "My name is Charles, Charles Potter."

"But I haven't heard of any my relatives still being alive … let alone of them being vampires," Harry said in confusion.

"That's because no one knows me as Charles Potter – as far as the world is concerned, Charles is dead. I faked my own death rather than let my family live with the knowledge that I was a vampire. It was better that way. For centuries now I have watched over those of my blood and kept them safe from as much as harm as I could turn aside," the vampire told him, with that same gentle smile on his face.

"But … I've always been led to believe that vampires are blood sucking monsters … so why would you care?" Harry asked – perhaps it wasn't the most intelligent question, because it might anger the vampire, but he needed to know. And he figured that if Charles _was_ a blood sucking monster, he would be dead soon enough anyway. He wasn't even sure if this would be a bad thing. At least he would be able to see Sirius again.

Charles shook his head sadly. "No, we aren't. Most Muggles think we are, and many wizards are uncomfortable with us, because we need to drink human blood in order to survive. But most of the time we don't kill, we just take enough to stay alive and healthy, and move on. Muggles, well, people in general really, are inclined to fear that which they don't understand. And no one who is not one of us has ever really understood vampire kind."

"Oh …" Harry said, and then paused for a moment before saying, "Sorry."

"It is a common misconception," Charles said delicately. "Of course, we do kill on occasion, like now. But he was going to hurt you, and I couldn't allow that – besides, Death Eaters _are_ monsters, and thus they cannot be allowed to live, if one is going to drink from them."

Harry nodded. He didn't see anything wrong with killing Death Eaters. That was a _good _thing, as far as he was concerned. "So you helped me because I'm of your family?" he asked, to make sure that he had things right.

"Yes," Charles nodded. "You are the last, and I will not let my line die out. I've been working far too hard, for too long to keep you lot alive."

"You said that you'd been helping us for centuries," Harry said, "But you don't look that much older than me."

"I'm sure you've heard stories of vampires being immortal," Charles remarked, "I have been alive for almost one thousand years. While I'm not immortal, completely, I will live long enough for people to assume me to be so. It would take a very long time to explain all the mechanics of vampires and the distinctions between us, so I will simply tell you that, provided nothing untoward happens, I will live for four or five thousand years before true death takes me."

"Five _thousand_ years?" Harry whispered, impressed. "Wow."

"You try living for a couple of centuries, and you'll get bored pretty quickly," Charles remarked. "Very few vampires live to one thousand. You get bored, you get tired, you get complacent … you make a mistake, or you go looking for the end of a life that has gone on far too long. Those of us who live longer than that usually find tasks to keep us occupied, and mine was to take care of my family."

Harry just nodded. He was awed by the age of the vampire before him, but he wasn't in the least bit scared of him. If death was coming for him, then it was coming. There was no way of avoiding death entirely, and he would rather die at this vampire's hands than at a Death Eaters. At least death would be quick, clean and hopefully relatively painless. But he did not think that Charles would kill him, somehow.

Charles scowled faintly suddenly, "On that note … I've been watching you since you arrived back here with this family of yours, and I can't say I like what I see. You are the heir to one of the most powerful families alive, you are one of the most famous people in the Magical world, and you are being treated like dirt by Muggles who are little more than that themselves."

"It's not like I can do anything about it," Harry muttered. "I have to stay with blood family; otherwise I'm not protected from Voldemort. Or at least, that's what the Order tells me. I'm not allowed to leave, and even if I did, I don't really have anywhere else that I want to go. Nowhere that isn't full of memories or people I'd rather not have to face."

"Memories of your godfather," Charles nodded, and Harry looked at him in surprise. "I do keep tabs on what goes on, you know. Nothing much happens without me finding out about it sooner or later. Usually sooner." Harry smiled a little. "But I think I have an alternative for you – you can come and live with _me_. I'm your relative by blood, after a fashion, and there aren't all that many people who would be able to find where I live, let alone want to challenge a fully fledged wizard-vampire to get to you."

Charles had started walking down the road, and Harry had followed him without much thought. At the vampire's words, however, he came to a dead stop once again. A _vampire_ had just asked him to go and live with it-him … Harry wasn't sure if it was a joke or not … And he didn't know which he wanted it to be.

Hadn't he been praying for an escape, this summer more than ever? Hadn't he been wishing, all his life, for a relative to turn up and steal him away from the mundane life in Little Whinging?

In all his imaginings, though, he had never come up with _this_. Who would imagine living with a vampire?

Charles looked back when he saw that Harry had stopped, and walked back the couple of paces necessary to place himself in front of Harry again. "I know that it must seem abrupt to you, Harry, but I have been watching you for almost a month, and it has been gradually dawning on me that there are few other alternatives. I promise you, you could not be safer than if you are with me. I would _never_ harm one of my blood, you least of all. You have _nothing_ to fear from me."

"I don't know," Harry hesitated, looking anywhere but into the vampire's face, unwilling to see the hope that he knew would be there, or let Charles see that hope mirrored in Harry's eyes. To have an escape, any escape, would be a welcome relief … but this escape? It tried the boundaries, even for Harry. He seized on a more reasonable excuse than 'you're a vampire and I don't trust you', and spoke again.

"I mean, I don't know you at all. You've just appeared out of nowhere, it seems, told me this story about being my long-lost however-many-greats grandfather, and then ask me to come and live with you. It's all very sudden, and I don't know what to say. I believe what you've told me," he added hastily, as he saw Charles open his mouth to speak again, "I see no reason for you to lie to me. If you were going to kill me, I would be dead already … but I'm still not sure."

"Of course, I understand. As I said, I have been watching for so long that I feel as if I know you, even though I do not really, and you certainly do not know me." Charles sighed. "So perhaps we could reach a compromise? I come home with you to the Muggles. I won't let them, or that person who is supposed to be guarding you, see me. We get to know each other, and then, in a little while, you can make your decision, and we shall act upon it."

Harry still hesitated. Inviting a vampire home didn't seem like a particularly good idea to him. But then, he was being offered a chance to escape from the Dursleys, and that could only be good thing. How could he turn that down? He couldn't, really. And this was a long shot better than going straight back to wherever Charles's home was. For a moment, he continued to think about it, in utter silence, while they walked together. The rain got heavier, falling in proper drops, rather than mist, but he didn't really notice. Finally he said, "Sounds good to me," and smiled a little at Charles.

Charles smiled back. "Me too," he said, and Harry knew that he was being completely sincere. He was tempted to just accept the offer and get out of here, but he wanted to get to know the vampire before he did anything. At least then he could not be accused of acting recklessly in the future.

"Promise you won't hurt any of my family?" he added as a thought occurred to him, suddenly wary.

"Of course," Charles said. "I drained that Death Eater for a reason you know. I have taken enough blood to last me a week or so, then I will need to feed again."

"Do you eat other stuff?" Harry asked curiously, suddenly wanting to know more about vampires. They were supposed to have covered them in first year at Hogwarts, but that had never happened with Quirrell as the teacher. He knew only what little he had heard from his friends, which wasn't particularly factual, just a gathering of stories designed to scare the listener.

"Yes," Charles replied. "We need blood to keep our bodies going and our blood fresh, otherwise we'll die within a month or so, and generally we'd need to feed every couple of days, to get enough, but if you drain someone completely, then it lasts longer. We do not _need_ to eat 'normal' food, but we still hunger for it, and it provides some sustenance."

Harry nodded. Made sense, he supposed. "Can you go out in the day time?" he asked, since most legends said they couldn't.

"In a fashion," Charles replied, "It is possible for a vampire to go out in daylight, but it is not a common practice amongst us. The sunlight hurts our eyes, which are designed to see at night time, and our skin burns very easily. We begin to go red after five minutes or so, and start to blister after about fifteen minutes in the sunlight. It is highly unpleasant. It's also far easier to hunt under the cover of darkness."

"So, if you wear sunglasses and sun cream, and long clothes, and don't try to hunt, then you're fine?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Charles nodded, "But still, we find it easier to cut ourselves off from the world of day and dedicate ourselves to the night. It makes our loss easier to deal with if we don't taunt ourselves with the inevitable. Although, the occasional wander through the day is a pleasant change, I must admit."

Then they were standing in front of Number Four Privet Drive – Harry hardly remembered the walk that brought them here from where he had been attacked, several blocks away. It seemed surprising that such a distance could be covered in what seemed like such a short time, but he supposed that he had been a little preoccupied. Harry suddenly remembered something, "That Death Eater – what if the Muggles find him?" he asked, "They'll freak out …"

"They won't," Charles said grimly. "The Death Eater killed your watcher before he did anything else, and someone will be coming to replace him soon enough. When they discover him missing, they'll search, and find the Death Eater – they'll know what it means, finding him with his blood completely drained, and they'll take the body away, then they'll come to check on you and make sure you're safe. I'll hide when they show, and you just have to tell them that you never saw a thing. They'll assume that I found the Death Eater on his own, before he got to you, and that'll be the end of that … although they'll warn you not to go out at night, because it isn't safe with a vampire around."

Harry jerked as if he had been touched with a burning coal when he heard that the Order's watcher had been killed looking out for him, and he felt as if the killing would never end. It was his fault, it was all his fault, and if he hadn't been here, who could say how many people would still be alive? He hated it, hated that he was the centre of this cyclone of death and despair … and there was nothing he could do.

He wondered who the watcher had been, and felt guilty – someone had died because of him, and he didn't even know if it had been a man or a woman, someone he knew or a complete stranger … the Death Eater had probably never known that information either, but that hadn't stopped the man from killing whoever it had been. Well, he would find out who it was soon enough, and then perhaps the guilt would ease a little.

He felt even guiltier when he realised that he was feeling relieved because he knew that the watcher could not have been Remus. Remus was possibly the one person that Harry _couldn't_ lose. It would be awful if any of his other friends in the Order died, but he didn't know if he would have been able to cope if it had been Remus who had died that night.

He shook his head, trying to drive those thoughts from his mind. He didn't want to think about death, he had spent far too long contemplating that eventuality, for himself and for all of the people that he knew. Too often in the last three weeks had he found himself wondering how he would feel if Ron died, or if Tonks, or any of the others.

"So wizards fear you as much as Muggles do?" Harry asked, as much to distract himself as anything else.

"Wizards do not trust us," Charles corrected calmly. "They believe that it is too easy for us to have ... _accidents_, even though they knowwe don't usually kill. But you only ever seem to hear about the vampire attacks where the victim died, because otherwise most don't know that they've been attacked."

Harry opened the front door and they headed inside and up to Harry's room, where he gathered clothes and got ready for the shower he usually had when he returned home, and the vampire inspected his surroundings. Somehow Charles didn't seem to be even slightly damp, despite the rain.

Soaked to the skin, and still a little shocked from the occurrences of the night, although he had mostly come to terms with things already, Harry clung to his routine. He didn't even think to tell Charles what was going on, and Charles didn't question it. Harry supposed, when he thought about it as he turned on the shower taps, sending a cascade of hot water over his chilled body, that Charles knew his routine from watching him over the past weeks.

Outside, the heavens opened and released a torrent of rain, as if all they had been waiting for was for those still living to make their way inside. The raindrops roared as they hit the rooftop, and Harry was willing to bet that the Dursley's wouldn't even be able to hear his shower over that sound.

When he returned after his shower, Harry found Moody standing outside the door to his room, raising his hand to knock. The rain must have covered the noise of his Aparating in as well. "Potter!" he said, in surprised relief, and Harry gave the slightest nod, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now. Act surprised that Moody was here, would probably be a good bet.

"Has something happened?" Harry asked, forehead creasing a little as if he was really confused by what was going on. "Why are you here?"

"We thought you might have been dead…" Moody said, not even seeming to have heard what Harry had said.

"What?" Harry asked, trying to sound surprised, "Why? What happened?"

"You're usually out wandering the streets this time of night," Moody said disapprovingly, "And it seems that our fears were justified – your watcher tonight was killed. It's not safe for you to be outside any more. We searched, and found the Death Eater whose wand delivered the curse. He was found dead, and bloodless. That means there was a vampire, too."

Harry let his facial expression change to one of fear and grief. The latter was not hard to summon, because he _was_ upset that someone else had died because of him. He wondered, then, if he should spill the beans and tell Moody that Charles was here, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he instead said, "Who? Who died?"

"I don't believe you ever met him," Moody said, "He joined us after Christmas last year." Harry nodded in barely concealed relief. No one he knew, that had to be better than one of his friends or someone he knew. Immediately, he felt worse about the occurrences. The relief that he felt in itself was condemning.

"And a _vampire_?" he added, trying to play shocked and cover all of the bases so that Moody didn't think that he was being suspicious. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to convince Moody of all people that he knew nothing. Moody was perhaps the most suspicious person Harry had ever met in his life.

"Yes," Moody said. "I'm surprised that it killed, because you don't usually find them killing people … so, we're going to ask you to stay _here_ and not go wandering _anywhere_ at all, until we're sure that the vampire has gone and there aren't any Death Eaters … frankly, I'm amazed you got back alive. Vampire must have attacked while the Death Eater was still following you, and not seen you."

"Must have," Harry said faintly, relieved because that was exactly what Charles had said they would assume.

"Remember boy, _constant vigilance. _If you see danger everywhere, you'll be prepared, and being prepared will mean the difference between life and death." Moody nodded firmly, before Aparating abruptly away, and Harry went into his room. Charles was nowhere to be seen.

"He's gone," Harry remarked, and for a moment, there was no movement in the room, then there was a knock on the window and Charles's head appeared there. Harry hurried over and opened it, and the vampire climbed agilely through.

"It was just like you said, he assumed that you'd attacked the Death Eater without seeing me, and before the Death Eater had found me," Harry told Charles, who nodded thoughtfully. Harry yawned, surprising himself. He hadn't been sleeping much, hadn't seen much point to in the last weeks, he only woke up after a few restless hours from nightmares.

"You should sleep," Charles remarked.

"I don't want to face the nightmares," Harry said quietly, and was surprised at himself because he didn't talk about his nightmares to anyone. They had not involved Voldemort, only Sirius and Sirius's death, so he had seen no reason to speak to the Order about them. While his scar often prickled when he woke up, or even burned sometimes, he didn't think that it was very important. His scar always hurt a bit, Voldemort was constantly active these days, whether that was out in the open or out of sight of the magical world. Charles looked at him for a moment, and nodded.

"I suppose I know how you feel. I have nightmares too," he said softly. "But you can't let them have power over you. You have to face them, and tell them that you aren't afraid, and then they will leave you alone. You need to sleep; your body cannot survive without it. Dreams are only dreams, and they cannot truly harm you."

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to face the nightmares that would come if he slept, but he also didn't really want to sleep while there was a vampire in the room with him. He thought he could trust Charles, but it went against every instinct he had to sleep while there was a blood drinking being nearby … even if said being was already apparently satiated.

He yawned again, and found himself nodding, going over to lie on his bed. Charles dragged the chair from Harry's desk over and sat down beside his head, reaching out a delicate hand and stroking the damp hair back from Harry's forehead, taking off his glasses and putting them on the bedside.

The last thing Harry remembered before his eyes drifted close and a deep, peaceful sleep overtook him, was the soft touch of Charles stroking his hair back, and a song seeming to croon very softly in his ears.

* * *

When Harry woke up again it was late in the morning and Charles was gone. Harry wondered if the man had been a dream that he had the night before, since he hadn't had a good night's sleep since Sirius's death … anything was possible, wasn't it? He blinked bleary eyes and sat up, reaching for his glasses and putting them on, letting the room swim suddenly into focus.

He got up, and looked around his room, as if searching for a sign that the night before had been real. His room was messy–clothes and the contents of trunk spilled out across the floor from when he'd been looking for something, but hadn't had the inclination to pack everything up again, the desk was completely empty, because he hadn't gone near his summer homework …

He lent back in his bed, feeling at once disappointed and relieved. Relieved because if Charles had only been a dream from the night before, then he wouldn't have to think about the life-changing decision to leave the Dursley's, but disappointed because he had lost the chance to do just that.

He shook his head faintly. Why could he never make up his mind what he wanted? It was always like this, so many things that he wanted that all seemed at opposites to each other.

Before he could continue this line of thought, the door was pushed open and Charles came into the room, bearing a tray of food and humming softly under his breath. "Ah," he said, smiling at Harry when he saw the boy sitting up, his glasses having just been hastily shoved onto his nose, "You're awake. Breakfast?"

Harry was so surprised that Charles was actually real, that he simply nodded his head. He realized that he felt happier than he had been in weeks, even months. While both the disappointment and relief could be related to this situation, Harry decided that whatever else he felt, he was happy that Charles had come into his life, whatever the outcome might be. He felt curiously attracted to the vampire.

Charles pushed the tray into Harry's lap, and Harry looked up at him, "Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"I won't feel hungry for human food until later this afternoon. I am rather bloated from the Death Eater," Charles replied. "And before you ask, your relatives didn't see me, nor did the Order watcher. Magic turned _his_ eyes away, and your relatives are all out and about. Your uncle has gone to work and your aunt his driving your cousin somewhere and will be spending some time gossiping when she gets there."

Harry smiled a little at that, and was surprised to find himself hungry enough to dig into the small meal that Charles had brought him. "There wasn't much food left," Charles said apologetically, "I expect your aunt will be doing some shopping before she comes home as well."

"That's ok," Harry said, "It's more than I usually eat for breakfast."

"I noticed that," Charles said disapprovingly, "You won't get anywhere by starving yourself you know. It won't bring your godfather back – believe me, I know. I tried it myself, I tried not to drink blood for weeks on end because I thought that it would make things go away … but it never did. It only made me weak, sick and thoroughly miserable."

"I'm not _trying_ to starve myself," Harry protested, suddenly worried that Charles would think less of him for not eating much. "I just don't feel hungry. I guess it's got a lot to do with Sirius being … you know … but it's also to do with the fact that I'm used to not eating as much when I'm here, I guess my body just expects it these days."

Charles looked very annoyed at those words, but he said nothing else about it, so Harry let it lie as well. He certainly had little wish to discuss his life at Privet Drive. He was more than happy to forget about the things that he had endured here in the past. "How are you going to explain your presence to the Order?"

"Most of the time, I won't be seen by them. I doubt that we'll be leaving the house much, somehow. But when we do need to leave, then we can go at night. Once you have decided what you want to do, we will also have to think about what you want to tell the Order. There will be time for that later though."

"About that," Harry said hesitantly, and Charles looked at him expectantly. "I've decided – I want to come and live with you." The brief moment in which he had been convinced that Charles had been a dream had been enough for Harry to realise just how much he did want to take the vampire up on his offer.

Charles smiled brilliantly. "Excellent. I was so hoping you would choose to accept," he said quietly. "In that case I suppose we will have to decide what you want to tell the Order sooner rather than later."

"What do you think we should tell them?" Harry asked.

"The Order will not react well to the knowledge that you are living with a vampire," Charles stated. "We could tell them that you are living with another relative, but they are well aware that anyone of your blood still classed as being amongst the living are all in the old pureblood families and therefore probably your enemies. Telling them who I am would only reveal that I am a vampire."

"So telling them truth is probably a bad idea," Harry extrapolated. "That leaves telling them a lie."

"That is an option," Charles nodded, "If I may suggest, you could simply tell them that you have left the Dursley's and have gone somewhere that you consider to be even safer than this house, and have no intention of returning, no matter what they might think is best for you and that you will see them all when school starts again."

Harry thought about it for all of a second before nodding. "That's a good plan."

"I like to avoid telling outright lies whenever I can," Charles said, "The more lies you tell the easier it is for you to slip up and make a mistake. Far better to tell the truth and just leave things out; in this instance my being a vampire. What they don't know won't hurt them."

"That's very devious," Harry remarked.

"Deviousness is a Slytherin trait that seems to have been sadly overlooked in today's generation," Charles said.

"You were in Slytherin?" Harry asked, surprised again.

"Do I detect a hint of prejudice in that question?" Charles asked, sounding both amused and annoyed. "Despite what the current generation seems to think, Slytherin is not synonymous with evil. To be Slytherin _should _be to prefer more subtle ways of getting things done, to prefer to do things the quiet _intelligent_ way, rather than run around drawing attention to ones self. Unfortunately, all the pureblood bigotry got attached the House entirely too early on."

"Sorry," Harry said. "Most of the people I know from Slytherin are really nasty."

"Apology accepted," Charles said, and that closed the issue. "When would you like to leave? We can go tonight, or later if that seems too soon."

Harry hesitated again, but only for a fraction of a second. "Tonight," he agreed. "I don't want to spend another night in this house ever again."

For a heartbeat after he spoke he wondered if he had been too rash, but the thought of getting away from the Dursley's focused him. Even if he and Charles did not get on, _anything_ had to be better than being locked away here, isolated from his friends, from his world.

It was time to leave.

* * *

Revised 20 October 2008

Author Note:

This story will NOT be slash. I'm not great at the romance thing, and I don't think I could write slash. I'm personally very heterosexual, and while I have no problem with homosexuality, I also have no real understanding of it. There may be a little romance in the middle and end of sixth year, and something a bit stronger for seventh year. I have a fairly good idea of who the more serious girlfriend will be, but not sure how much fooling around Harry will do first, or who will be involved. Hermione will NOT be - I don't see them as working as a couple.

WolfMoon


	3. Decisions

Disclaimer: Recognisable characters and plot devices are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and various authors of vampire fiction.

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Three: Decisions

Harry spent the day cleaning his room thoroughly while Charles watched and gave a little magical aid. "Becoming a vampire didn't stop me from being a wizard, I just got the added advantage of vampire magic," he said when Harry asked him about his using a wand.

They packed everything of any importance to Harry into his trunk. "You will not require any of the Muggle clothes," Charles said, turning his nose up when Harry opened his wardrobe. "You will not really need your robes either, as we can buy you new ones without any trouble, but if you wish to bring them, go ahead."

Harry thought about, and ended up packing one of his school robes and his dress robes, just in case he wanted them. His most important possessions went in the trunk first: his invisibility cloak, his photo album, his Firebolt and various gifts from his friends over the years. His school books were the next in, followed by his wand.

"That's about everything," Harry admitted.

Charles nodded. "In that case perhaps you would like to write your letter to Headmaster Dumbledore – Hedwig can take it to him and then continue straight on to my home. We should be gone before she reaches the Headmaster."

Harry nodded and sat down at his empty desk, rummaging in his bag to dig out a quill and ink. He thought for a long time about what he should write to the Headmaster.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_I know that you believe remaining with my Aunt is the best thing for me, but I cannot agree. I need time, and someone who understands what I've been going through to help me get over Sirius's death._

_I have found exactly the place that I need, and I'm hoping you will understand when I do not tell you where I am. I know that you will not approve, but I have every intention of going through with this, no matter what you might think of the arrangement. I am safe, don't worry about that, and I will be at Hogwarts for the new term, when September the first comes around._

_I am safe from Voldemort here as well, he will not find me, and neither will you. Do not try to follow Hedwig back, this place is unplottable, and it won't work. Just leave me alone for the holidays, and let me get used to things on my own. THIS IS WHAT I WANT, and if you try anything else, I won't be happy about it._

_I'm sorry for worrying you, but I've done what I had to._

_From Harry._

_P.S. You can write to me here if you want to, but only if Hedwig is bearing the messages. Do not try to persuade me any differently. My mind is made up. But I would like to hear from my friends, so please let them know that they can send me letters here__._

He offered the finished product to Charles, who read over it quickly. "Nice and to the point," was the only comment he made as he handed the page back to Harry, who carefully folded it and gave it to Hedwig.

"Girl, I need you to take this to Dumbledore, I'm not sure exactly where he is – at Hogwarts or in London. If he's really close by, I don't want him getting this message until after sundown, ok?" he said quietly to his faithful owl, who hooted reassuringly.

"May I speak with her a moment?" Charles enquired, taking the owl on his arm only when Harry nodded his approval. He spoke too softly for Harry to overhear what he was saying, but when he finished Hedwig hooted again and took off out the open window.

"I was just making sure she would be able to find us again once she has delivered your message," Charles said quietly, and Harry nodded. "Now, I think we're all done here," he added, looking around. Harry glanced around as well. Nothing was left in the room to suggest that he had ever been here. Dudley's cast offs and everything else he had decided not to keep had been banished by Charles and everything else had been packed carefully away in his trunk.

A few charms from Charles had the room perfectly clean, the paint renewed and the window shining, his bed made neatly in the corner. Dudley's old books and toys, banished to a corner since Harry had moved up here when he was eleven, where returned to their previous place on the shelves.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Now we go and catch a train," Charles announced cheerfully. "I think we can leave now. Do not worry; your watcher will not notice us leaving."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, while Charles shrunk his trunk and pocketed it.

"Glasgow," Charles said cheerfully. "It'll take most of the night, I'm afraid, but you can sleep on the way." Harry nodded in agreement, yawning slightly; having a good night's sleep last night had left him feeling like he could use a lot more.

"Let's go and get tickets then."

They walked to the train station very quickly and were soon on the train and heading toward Glasgow. The train was fairly devoid of occupants when it left Little Whinging, most people seeming to travel at earlier hours, so Harry and Charles ended up with a carriage of their own. "I can pay you back for the ticket," Harry offered.

Charles just looked at him. "Harry, you are my family, my _only_ family. I have accepted the responsibility of housing you and taking care of you as your guardian. Usually there would be legal channels for this that we would have to go through, but obviously we can't at this point in time. When I asked you to come and live with me, I did so with the intention of being someone you can rely on - for financial support, among other things.. I will provide you with everything you need and most things that you want, and I do not expect repayment of any sort."

Harry was confused, and his confusion must have shown on his face, because Charles spoke again, gently, "I saw what your Aunt and Uncle were like – as your legal guardians, they didn't act in the least as one would have hoped, or expected. You have never known what it is like to have a guardian who intends to fulfill that role to the utmost. Now you do. It will take some getting used to, but I am here for you now."

Harry nodded slowly, and they lapsed into a silence. Somewhere along the way, Charles started humming softly under his breath, and Harry felt his eyelids begin to droop. Suddenly, he was snapping awake, and the train was stopping. "Did I fall asleep?" he asked, a little stupidly.

Charles smiled slightly. "You did indeed," he replied. "We are now in Glasgow, and not far from my-our-home. Come along, we'd best get moving, I'm looking forward to the comforts of my own home, and I think you will like my house. I am quite eager to get your opinion on it."

Harry got up, a little unsteady from sleeping sitting down, and followed the vampire out of the station and down the deserted streets of the city at this late our. They walked until they were reaching the outskirts of Glasgow, where the houses had greater gaps between them, and were a lot bigger than those closer to the city centre.

Some time later, they started up the driveway to a large estate house, with sweeping grounds and a small water garden off to one side. The house itself was old, with cathedral windows and a wide staircase leading up to the huge front doors.

There were statues at the bottom of the staircase too. Dragons, with their wings spread back, mouths agape, staring down at the approaching pair. The place _screamed_ of money, Harry thought as they walked. The front doors were arched and made of some old wood and on either side of them stained glass windows rose, etched with patterns of roses and vines. "Nice," Harry remarked, although the word was incredibly inadequate to describe the luxury that was paraded before him.

"I'm glad you approve," Charles accepted the compliment. "This is one of the Potter's ancestral houses. It was overlooked by the family during a war in the 1800s, so I moved in and made myself at home. I've been here ever since – the people around here believe that it's held by a family who all look very much alike, which is true, as the Potters do tend to bear an uncanny resemblance to one another."

"What about the Ministry?" Harry asked. "Don't they realise that you're a vampire? They would realise, wouldn't they?"

"They think that the Muggles are just being superstitious. They know that the house belongs to wizards, or they think it does, anyway, and they have the supposed death certificates of the previous people in the family – they don't care. I send a generous 'donation' to them each year, and they keep out of it. They have no reason to suspect me, and they want bother to look for one as long as I keep giving the money."

"But that's bribery," Harry said, shocked, "Isn't that wrong?"

Charles laughed. "So innocent," he remarked, and smiled slightly when Harry looked annoyed by the comment. "As far as I'm concerned, it's a donation – I give to the poorer parts of the Ministry, particularly the health organisations. _They_ need the extra money, and take it as a bride, although to begin with it was never intended as such. It simply turned out that way, and it's easier to get by for both of us, with this arrangement."

"I guess," Harry said slowly, deciding to let the comment about 'innocence' slide for the moment. It all sounded very _Malfoy_ as far as he was concerned, but what Charles did with his money was his own business, he supposed. And donating to health organisations was a good thing, they always seemed to need more money, and they _were_ helping people, which was good.

Charles walked up the steps ahead of Harry, certainly seeming very happy to be home, and threw open the doors, which opened inward, then turned to smile at Harry, bowing slightly, welcoming his descendant to his home. Behind Charles, Harry could see the entrance hall–it was even grander than the one at Hogwarts. "Welcome to my humble abode," the vampire said, with a proud smile. He had reason to be proud too, Harry thought, looking around.

This house had electricity, a Muggle luxury few wizards employed, either because they were too proud, or because they didn't understand enough about it to be able to use it even if they did have it. But the vampire seemed to have no such reservations. Lit by a giant chandelier and numerous lights almost hidden in the rest of the splendour, golden light fell down upon a plush red carpet, there were small plants scattered around the room, making it look more welcoming, with golden statues of magical creatures interspersed among them.

The walls were wood paneling, polished until it shone, and lining the walls were gold framed portraits of Harry's ancestors, looking down upon their descendant with expressions varying from stern, to happy grins, sad smiles and many others. There no portraits that portrayed anger, which was one thing that Harry noted. They all looked very like him, except for those who must have married into the family. Charles wasn't kidding when he said family resemblance was strong amongst the Potters.

Ahead of him was a sweeping stairway, leading up to the next floor. Going along to either side of it, deep into the ground floor of the mansion were long galleries, with more portraits, and, Harry imagined, eventually they would find doors leading off to other rooms.

Above the staircase was a huge tapestry, made of red cloth, with names picked out in gold embroidery. He could not read the names, although he knew who's they would be, for he had seen a tapestry very similar to this one gracing the walls in Grimmauld Place, recounting the names of past Blacks, although this one was a lot better preserved than the Black's had been. This was an account of his own ancestors …

This tapestry dwindled down, and as each generation came, there were less people within it. Now, Harry realised with a sad jolt, there was only name on the bottom row, and that must be his own. But there was one other Potter left as well, even if he was a vampire, although according to the tapestry, Charles would be dead.

"Why is the room all in Gryffindor colours?" He asked, "You said that you were in Slytherin."

"And so I was. But I did not build this house, I just moved in when everyone else seemed to have forgotten about it. Most of your line was in Gryffindor. My grandson married the descendant of one of Godric Gryffindor's brothers, so you can claim some Gryffindor blood, although not the blood of Godric himself, as he died childless," Charles replied.

"I'm related to one of the Founder's of Hogwarts?" Harry demanded, surprised.

"Many people can claim the same thing – while Godric had no children, he had eight siblings, all of whom had rather large broods. The Weasley's have more Gryffindor blood than the Potters, and several others do as well. It comes out more in our family and in the Weasley's than it does in most. All of the Gryffindor family had the red hair and the tendency for many children. The Gryffindor genes seemed to have been overridden by the Potter ones in our own family."

"Do the Weasley's know about that?" Harry asked, thinking that Ron would have probably mentioned that he was descended from Godric Gryffindor if he knew.

"Oh, certainly. You know how important blood is to the old families," Charles said, "But as I said, a great many families have Gryffindor blood on in them, it is hardly something to brag about. It was similar with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, although Slytherin's line dwindled sadly over the years. As you know, Voldemort is his only surviving descendant. Potters, like the Weasley's, have a tendency to end up in Gryffindor, except in extreme situations."

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," Harry told Charles, a fact which had told in the past only to Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm not surprised," Charles said, "After what happened with Voldemort it would have been expected – you are linked to the Heir of Slytherin through that scar of yours, it is unsurprising that you should have certain magnetism in the direction of that house. You fall under the category of extreme situation, and you evidently chose to avoid that particular House."

"I'd heard that Slytherin had a lot of evil wizards from it, and I didn't want to end up there, so I asked not to go there. It put me in Gryffindor instead, which I've never regretted."

"Our choices make us who we are," Charles said easily, unknowingly echoing the words that Albus Dumbledore had spoken back when Harry was in his second year at Hogwarts and worried that he might not belong in Gryffindor, even though he loved the house.

Harry smiled happily at that, and was put at ease by Charles's words, that there had been others like him who had been influenced towards other houses; he wouldn't have wanted to be a black sheep in the family, after all.

"The entrance hall is one of the grander rooms in the house," Charles added, "Most of them are a lot less imposing but our family has always been proud of its wealth and heritage, and most of the public rooms are just as intensely decorated. I've never had the inclination to change it. The Dining Room and the Ball Room are most notable for their appearance, although the library is, I would be the first to admit, quite impressive as well."

Charles led Harry up the staircase to the second floor, and, although the main corridor was pretty impressive, when Charles led them off it and into a small living room, Harry blinked a little from the difference. This room was lit by soft lamps, rather than harsh lights, and the pictures on the wall were just that, pictures of flowers and fantasy landscapes, rather than portraits of the old Potters. The carpet was blue, rather than red, and there were inviting leather arm chairs around an empty fireplace.

Charles gestured for Harry to take a seat, and a bell that was sitting on the mantelpiece above the fire. A moment later a young woman appeared in the doorway. "Master Charles, you have returned!" she said with a smile, then noticed Harry, "And you have a guest!"

She wrinkled her nose slightly at the ragged appearance of Harry's clothes, but otherwise seemed unsurprised at his presence. "You were successful then?"

"Yes," Charles nodded. "Lucy, this is Harry Potter; the sole surviving member of my blood. He has agreed to live with us for the remainder of the summer. Harry, this is Lucy, she is my maid."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said.

"Likewise Master Harry," Lucy nodded and returned her attention to Charles, "Can I get you anything?" she enquired.

"You can indeed; a light breakfast and tea for me, anything for you Harry?"

"Uh, the same I guess," Harry said, and Lucy nodded, leaving the room quickly.

"If you ever need of anything here just ring the bell, and someone will come for you, either one of the house elves - there are two - or Lucy," Charles replied. "There is a groundskeeper, a man by the name of Wilfred, but you'll meet him later."

"You have house elves?" Harry asked.

"Of course. They have been serving the family for generations," Charles replied, "Although the Potter's never went in for treating them as anything other than willing servants, never slaves, as many families do. It would be an unkindness to set them free, after all. They have a good home, get good treatment, and are doing something that they enjoy."

Harry nodded, glad that Hermione wasn't with him. She would be freaking out at the mention of house elves, after all. "Lucy and Wilfred … are they human?" he asked.

"Of course," Charles said mildly. "They both attended Hogwarts some years ago, but don't have any great prowess at magic. They have enough to deal with most things they'll come up working with me. They know about vampires and know that they don't have to be afraid of me. They know all about the magical world, so things like the moving portrait gallery don't worry them at all."

Harry nodded his understanding. "So they know all about you then?" he asked.

"Yes," Charles replied, "If I go too long without a feed, or am doing something too important to interrupt for the business of hunting both are quite happy to allow me to drink some of their blood. Not much, and not often, because that would make them sick, but enough to be going with at the time. It is very useful, sometimes. I would not hide my true nature from any who live with me, to do so would be highly discourteous … and the truth always seems to find a way of getting out."

Harry shuddered slightly at the thought of the vampire feeding on him. He didn't think he could ever just allow Charles to drink his blood, it seemed too…_weird_. He supposed he should be used to weird things happening, really, given that he went to Hogwarts and all.

Charles saw the shudder, and guessed what it meant. "You have no need to worry about me feeding on you," he assured Harry. "Vampire law decrees that feeding on children is a sin beyond all measure, because their bodies cannot cope with the loss of the blood, and such an action could have far reaching consequences. We count children as being fifteen years or younger. It is also against our laws to turn anyone under the age of twenty one, unless in the last extremes of saving that persons life."

Harry nodded, feeling a little bit better at that, and before he had the opportunity to ask more questions, Lucy arrived again, now burdened by a tray that looked as if it were about to collapse under the sheer weight of food that was piled upon it. Harry thought Charles had asked for a _light_ breakfast.

She set the tray down, "Anything else, Master Charles?"

"No, that will be all for the moment," Charles replied, and Lucy curtseyed and hurried out to go about her other tasks "Dig in," Charles advised Harry, nodding to the breakfast, and Harry was surprised to find himself feeling very hungry.

He and Charles both ate rather ravenously, and Harry wondered if Charles was getting hungry for something other than human food. He shouldn't be, if what he had said about draining the Death Eater was true.

When they finished, Charles rang the bell again, but it wasn't Lucy who came to take the plates away. When the plates disappeared without any sign of someone being there, Harry guessed that a house elf had come to deal with them.

"I would suggest giving you a tour of the house, but it is rather large and you still seem weary from the journey. Perhaps I could show you to your room instead?" Charles offered.

"That would be great," Harry admitted, covering a yawn.

He followed Charles out of the room and down a new passage. There was a main corridor on the second floor, Harry would learn, that led to a couple of small rooms, as well as the main 'public' rooms on this floor, but there was a warren of passages that led through the rest of the floor, leading to all of the private rooms, of which Harry's bedroom was one. As the house was magic, Harry was fairly sure that it was bigger on the inside than it appeared to be from the exterior of the dwelling.

His own room was on the far side of the house, looking out over the water garden that he had noticed on the way to the house, and was much bigger than any of the rooms in the entirety of the Dursley's house had been. There was a walk-in wardrobe that was completely empty - which made him feel rather embarrassed - a personal bookshelf, also empty, but he supposed that would be dealt with in time, a king sized four poster bed with soft blue hangings, a large desk on which he could do homework, and the exterior wall was made up of glass windows giving him a perfect view over the grounds.

There was a stand with a cage hanging from it just beside an open window, just waiting for Hedwig to come and take residence there. It was much larger than the cage she normally had at the Dursley's and Harry was looking forward to her arriving so that she could see it.

"Sleep well," Charles told Harry with a smile, "If you wish to leave the room, you might want to summon Lucy or the house elves, because this house is very easy to get lost in until you learn your way around. I wouldn't want you to end up wandering around the house lost, it could take awhile to find you again!"

Harry nodded absently, still a little overcome by the luxury of the room. "There is an en suite," Charles added, nodding to a door on one side of the room, "If you wish to bath before you sleep." With that, he saw himself out, before Harry could thank him for the room.

"Wow," He whispered, looking around. He was, however, too tired to want to explore the room more thoroughly at that moment, and simply climbed into his bed, nestling into the warm covers and falling asleep in seconds, perfectly at peace for the first time those holidays.

He woke up again probably only a few hours later and pulled open the drapes that Charles had closed over the windows. The sun was well and truly up now, and the view of the garden was simply spectacular. Harry looked around his room and noticed that his trunk had been left by the door.

He went over and opened it, taking out his all of his most treasured possessions. His school books went onto the bookshelf, filling the top two rows, the various presents from his friends over the years he arranged on the surfaces around the room. He put his quills and stacks of parchment on the otherwise empty desk, and hung his invisibility cloak and his single Hogwarts robe up in the wardrobe.

That done, he decided to explore the en-suite, which looked like a room modeled on something in the far distant future. It was covered in marble tiles, with fluffy white towels and a bath robe hanging on the door. The taps and door handles were polished to shine like gold, and there was a spa bath in the centre of the room, with oils, hair products, bubble bath and much more resting around the edges.

Like the rest of the house, the room screamed of money, and the luxury of it made him feel a little out of place after living with the Dursley's. Even at Hogwarts he had never really had access to something like this. The Prefect bathroom that he had visited once in fourth year had come close, but it didn't really have anything on this.

After awhile of simply standing and looking around, Harry decided that he should try out the spa. Once he'd filled the bath, scented the water, and added bubble bath, he turned on the jets and letting them massage his body and relaxed him totally.

When he got out, some time later, it was almost painful to pull on the old clothes of Dudley's he had been wearing all summer. They felt out of place and completely ridiculous when compared to the rest of the house. He wondered how Charles would feel about taking him shopping for some new clothes very soon; he really didn't like the feeling.

* * *

Revised 20 October 2008

A few more minor changes in this and the other recent chapters. Just issues with flow and grammar that seemed more apparent this time around.

WolfMoon


	4. Shopping

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Four: Shopping

When Harry opened his bedroom door, he found Charles there raising a hand to knock. "Perfect timing," Charles announced brightly. "How do you like your room?"

"It's … amazing," Harry said, although the word inadequately conveyed his feelings. Charles smiled though, seeming to know exactly what Harry meant.

"I was thinking that perhaps you would appreciate a shopping trip later this afternoon?" Charles offered.

"That sounds like a _brilliant _idea to me," Harry said. "Dudley's things were never nice, but they make me feel really out of place here."

Charles frowned. "I find myself disliking the Dursley's more and more. You should never feel out of place in your own home," he said. "We shall remedy the situation immediately, rather than waiting for the later afternoon, I think. We shall have lunch and then leave for a shopping expedition."

Charles escorted Harry to the same room they'd eaten in the day before, where a meal was already waiting for them. They ate fairly quietly, just enjoying each other's company.

"Charles?" Harry asked part way through the meal.

"Yes Harry?"

"What relation are you to me exactly?"

Charles frowned, eating another mouthful of food while he thought it over. "Exactly, I am your sixteenth times great-grandfather," he said eventually. "I would suggest referring to me either as your Uncle or your cousin in company, though."

Harry nodded. 'Grandfather' let alone 'great grandfather' seemed extremely inappropriate considering that Charles looked to be no older than thirty. When the meal was done, shortly after, they went downstairs and out through the front doors.

As they walked down the stairs an impressive looking black car appeared around the side of the mansion and pulled up in front of them. It's windows were blackened so as not to let too much sunlight through, and Harry noticed that Charles was already looking uncomfortably after just a few seconds in the afternoon sun.

The drivers door opened and a middle aged man with graying brown hair stepped out. He was dressed in an expensive looking suit, and bowed carefully to both Charles and Harry, which made Harry feel slightly uncomfortable, though Charles seemed to take no notice of it.

"Harry, this is Wilfred, chauffeur and grounds keeper, Wilfred, this is my grandson, Harry," Charles introduced them

"Pleased to meet you Sir," Wilfred nodded politely. His accent held traces of London in it, Harry thought. Wilfred, like Lucy, didn't seem surprised to see Harry, although Harry figured that the grounds keeper and chauffeur would have been told all about him by Lucy not long after his arrival.

"Likewise," Harry said, somehow thinking that it would be inappropriate to shake this fellow's hand, since he was supposed to be a family servant of some sort; certainly Wilfred didn't offer to shake. The chauffeur opened the back door and Charles climbed in, before leading Harry around to the other side of the vehicle and letting him in as well, then going around to the front again and climbing into the driver's seat, and they were off, heading for the centre of Glasgow.

Both Charles and Wilfred evidently knew the city very well, because they went straight to a large shopping complex in the centre of town, but rather than parking there, drove around the block to park in the street adjacent. "All of my clothes are tailor made–it's the only way to dress," Charles explained calmly to Harry as Wilfred opened the doors for them. "I see no reason not to do the same for you, although of course we shall purchase some more casual clothes for you as well."

He led Harry straight into a small shop set a little back from the street front that most people seemed to overlook a little. "Mr. Elsen doesn't particularly like tending to the needs of the general populace," Charles informed Harry as they stepped into the shop, Wilfred walking a little behind them. "So most people don't tend to notice it. Regular customers bring those they believe will suit him, and he usually deigns to serve them. He serves both wizards and Muggles, although he is a wizard himself. He prefers to do things the Muggle way whenever possible, however, being Muggle born himself."

Harry nodded slightly, accepting the explanation. The shop was rather dark and more than a little unwelcoming. He unconsciously moved a little closer to Charles, for the support of knowing that there was someone there with him. A moment later an older man, dressed in an old-style suit, stepped out of the darkness and smiled faintly in greeting.

"Charles Potter, a pleasure to see you again Sir," the man said. His back was very straight and he looked every bit as imposing as Professor McGonagall did. His hair was completely grey and neatly cut but he walked with all the energy of a far younger man.

"John Elsen, likewise," Charles nodded. "I've brought my young ward, Harry, here for a new wardrobe. He lost most of his not long before he came under my care."

Mr. Elsen looked at Harry intently for a moment, "I suppose we will soon be reading reports of young Master Potter's disappearance then, Charles," he remarked, and smiled when he saw Harry's fearful look, and the way Harry's hand inched towards his wand, and smiled. "Rest assured, your secret is safe with me. You can trust on John Elsen's discretion!"

Charles smiled, "You can trust him," he reassured Harry.

"It will be an honour to provide such a renowned young gentleman with a new wardrobe," Mr. Elsen said, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Out in the back, the shop was much more inviting, although the lights were harsh after the dim front. They had to be, Harry supposed, so Mr. Elsen could see properly to sew. "What sort of clothes will Master Harry be wanting?" Mr. Elsen asked Charles, rather than Harry.

"The same as me," Charles replied, and Harry smiled slightly. It would be great to have new clothes, and since Harry and Charles looked so alike, it was, he thought, fair to assume that he would look as good as Charles did when wearing the same sorts of clothes. "Perhaps also some more casual clothes, something more suitable for a teenager to wear."

"He will appreciate casual clothes more than you, I believe," Mr. Elsen agreed. "The young do like their exotic new styles. But he will look good in the same style as you. Would you prefer Muggle or Wizard styles of dress, Master Potter?" this was addressed to Harry.

"Umm … both, I think," Harry replied. Mr. Elsen nodded absently, seeming as if he had expected this response.

Harry found himself hustled up onto a low stool and measured out carefully, all the results being written down. "So I can easily make new clothes as you require them," Mr. Elsen said to Harry, who nodded slightly. Getting clothes, Harry discovered, was a long and rather boring process. Mr. Elsen measured him, then got out ready cut fabric that was around Harry's size, and got out pins, pinning everything to fit. "I always keep some fabric cut close to Charles's size in his usual favourite styles," the tailor continued, "Which means I will have a pair of clothes ready for you fairly quickly."

Harry was fairly glad to get out of the shop once Mr Elsen had finished pinning the fabric; it was a process that took several hours all told, but when they were done Harry was assured that his clothes would be ready by the next afternoon.

"In the efforts of getting you out of those revolting clothes as soon as possible, I suggest we go to the Mall and do some shopping there also," Charles announced as they stepped on to the street, leading the way forward. Harry walked beside him, while Wilfred walked several paces behind.

Wilfred's presence was making Harry slightly uncomfortable; he had never had people following him around like this before, and it was certainly not a general practice any more. Charles, and Wilfred himself, didn't seem to find it at all strange though.

In the Mall, Charles led Harry through an exhaustive collection of shops full of Muggle clothing. Here they bought jeans, trousers, t-shirts, shirts, jumpers, socks, underwear, two jackets, several pairs of shoes and two new belts. By the time Charles pronounced himself satisfied with Harry's Muggle wardrobe, the shops were about to close and Wilfred was having some trouble keeping hold of all of their purchases.

All day Charles had paid for everything and refused to allow Harry to even think of paying him back, reminding his charge that as they were both Potter's, their wealth was shared regardless. Harry still felt a little odd at having someone else pay, but he realized very quickly that he would simply have to accept it.

"We will have to make an excursion to the Magical area of Glasgow soon," Charles announced as they stepped into the car. Wilfred was loading all of their purchases into the boot. "John Elsen will make you a number of dress robes, but for buying in bulk for your stay in Hogwarts, it would be more appropriate to go elsewhere."

Harry just nodded slightly. He was exhausted from all the shopping they had done today, and very glad to be on the way back home again. Home, he repeated the word in his mind with a sense of wonder: for the first time ever he had a real home.

As they were driving back to the manor, something else occurred to Harry. "I'll be able to fly at your place!" he exclaimed suddenly, smiling widely. He was so used to being simply unable to fly that it taken him awhile to even think of it.

"Indeed you will," Charles nodded, smiling in return. "I had heard how much you enjoyed flying – youngest Seeker in over a hundred years! A love of flying is something else that has been written into the Potter genes, almost all of us have been on our House Quidditch teams at Hogwarts, and the few who weren't still flew recreationally."

When they got home, Harry went back to his room. When he arrived there he found that all of his clothes had been brought up already from the car, and that someone – presumably the House Elves – had put them all away for him.

Harry sighed; it was going to take awhile to get used to having people do all of his work for him. He looked through all of his new things and eventually picked out a pair of nice trousers and a fitted long-sleeved black shirt. Clothes chosen, he went to re-acquaint himself with the bathroom, feeling much better at being able to put on real clothes when he was done. He took great pleasure in throwing Dudley's old clothes in the bin on the way out. He would never have to wear second-hand too-big clothes again!

When he was done, Harry went into his room and looked around vaguely, wondering what to do now. His desk, he noticed, had also been set up by the servants: his homework was sitting in a neat pile on top, along with his quills and ink. For a moment, he considered making a start on it, but decided that he wasn't in the mood. He wanted to see more of his new home!

Mindful of Charles' warning to summon a servant to prevent himself from getting lost, Harry looked around to see what might be used to call said servant. He found a bell sitting on his desk, and rang it uncertainly. Immediately, there was a pop and a House Elf appeared beside him.

It –she, he realized quickly- bowed deeply to him as soon as she appeared. "Holly is being here Mast Harry Potter sir," she squeaked. "How is Holly being able to help Master Harry Potter today sir?"

"Um, could you just call me Harry?" He asked, remembering from previous House Elf experiences that this was unlikely.

Just as he thought, the elf looked positively scandalized, "That is not being proper behaviour for a house elf Master Harry Potter sir!" she squeaked indignantly at him.

"Is there any possible way to shorten the title without being improper?" Harry asked, resisting the urge to bang his head on the desk. His experiences with Dobby made him well aware that compromising with house-elves was both difficult and time consuming.

The elf actually thought about it for a long moment, "Holly is thinking that calling you Master Harry or Master Potter is not being too un-proper," she said eventually. "Which would you be preferring?"

"Master Harry," Harry said decisively, and the elf nodded.

"Master Harry it is then, Master Harry sir," she said, bowing again. Harry restrained the instinct to roll his eyes with some difficulty. "Is Master Harry needing anything else from Holly? Food, maybe?" she looked hopeful.

"No thank you Holly, I'm not hungry just yet," Harry replied, "I was hoping that you could show me around? Maybe take me to Charles?"

"Holly is afraid she cannot take Master Harry to Master Charles," Holly said sadly, "Master Charles is being with Very Important Guests as is not to be bothered by any of the servants until he is done."

"Oh right, he said that earlier," Harry remembered. "Can you take me somewhere else then?"

"Master Charles is telling Holly that she should take Master Harry to the library if he is not having anything else to do," Holly offered, after thinking for a little while again.

"OK," Harry said, not really minding where he went. The library would be as good a place as any to start exploring from, he supposed.

"If Master Harry would come with me," Holly said, and backed out of the room. Harry followed, and was led down a dizzying selection of corridors. As he walked, he did his best to note anything interesting or unusual so that he could find his way back here if he wanted to. He wanted to be able to find his own way around as soon as possible. Unfortunately most of the mansion was both interesting and unusual, and he stopped Holly several times to look at different portraits, tapestries and ornaments.

Eventually, they reached a door and Holly came to a stop. "There is being three different ways into the library Master Harry Sir," she told him. "One is for guests, it is being very large and impressive. The other two is being much smaller, on each side of the library, and is for the family only. Holly is taking Master Harry to one of these, sir."

"That's fine Holly," Harry reassured her.

"Does Master Harry want Holly to come in with him or is he prefering to poke around on his own?"

"I should be fine on my own thank you Holly," Harry said politely.

Holly nodded, "Holly is leaving Master Harry now then," she said, "If Master Harry needs anything, he can either say Holly's name and she will come, or he is being able to ring a bell and one of the others will come to help him!" she vanished with a crack and Harry was on his own.

Harry was not expecting what he found on the other side of the door. The room was gigantic, with a vaulted ceiling and it was lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, all of which had ladders to reach the upper limits of. All the surfaces Harry could see where dark wood paneling and the carpet was the same plush red as the entrance hall.

He noticed that, much like the rest of the house, this room was lit with electric lights, hanging between the shelves and positioned so as to give the room a light, airy feel. In various places around the room, Harry could see tables and desks with chairs, as well as comfortable looking arm chairs that seemed to invite anyone in the room to pick up a book and settle down to read for awhile.

Harry was surprised at _welcoming_ this library seemed – very different from Madam Pince's domain at Hogwarts. It wasn't nearly as stuffy, nor did he get the slightly threatening feeling that he always had at Hogwarts, as though Madam Pince was already swooping down on him for breathing on one of her precious books.

Each shelf was carefully marked, both with the general subject of the books within it, and also by author, in alphabetical order. Not only were there wizard books, on everything from Transfiguration, Charms and Potions to obscure histories, traveler accounts and much more, there were also Muggle books: histories, general school subjects, and advanced studies on just about everything Harry had ever seen and novels from all sorts of genres.

In short, Harry had never seen anything like it. It was the largest collection of books he had _ever_ seen; even the magical section was almost twice as large as the Hogwarts library, which didn't have any Muggle books at all. He even found books both on and in foreign languages.

He lost track of the time as he wandered through the shelves, occasionally climbing a ladder out of curiosity, but mostly staying on the ground level. He occasionally picked up a book and flipped through it absent-mindedly before returning it the shelf. He could only imagine what Hermione would think if she could see this room; she would probably never leave.

For awhile he couldn't think where to actually start, until he noticed the section dedicated to the Dark Arts and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Walking through those shelves he found a lot of books he recognized from his research for DA last year, but mostly they were completely new to him.

Without much clue what was in each volume, he started picking those randomly off the shelves and looking through them. Most were much more advanced than anything Hogwarts had to offer, and, with the Prophecy very much in the for-front of his mind, Harry resolved to read as many of them as possible before he went back to Hogwarts in September.

Before he had really realized it, he had a huge collection piled up to take back to his room, just to start with. "Holly!" he called, and the elf appeared instantly beside him.

"How is Holly being able to help Master Harry?" she asked.

"Could you show me back to my room?" Harry asked, moving to pick up the books he had picked out.

"Master Harry, you is not thinking about carrying those back to your room!" Holly cried, and Harry stopped guiltily. "No no no! You is letting Holly take care of that!" she told him, and the books vanished with a crack. "They is waiting in your room Master Harry," she told him, "If you is ever needing to take books there, you is asking Holly to do it for you, it is her job!"

"Ok Holly, I won't do it again, promise," Harry said, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Good," Holly announced, oblivious to the sarcasm in his tone, and then led him back to his room. Harry once again did his best to memorise the route they took, thinking that he might need to get shown the way once more, but that he could probably get from his room to the library mostly unaided by now.

When they got back to the room, Harry found that all of the books had been placed neatly on his bookshelf in alphabetical order. "Is Master Harry needing any foods?" Holly asked him, sounding hopeful.

"Yeah ok, just a snack though," Harry said, and the elf vanished instantly. Harry picked up one of the books and flopped down on his bed to start reading. He had barely started reading when Holly returned, bearing a tray with a glass of milk, some orange juice, biscuits, miniature sandwiches and crisps.

She left the tray on his desk, so Harry got up and took his book over there to settle down. The book was fascinating; it mentioned a lot of techniques that Harry had never even considered, and he already couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts and try some of the spells it mentioned out.

After a little while of reading, however, he started to get a little fidgety and decided to put the book down for awhile and explore his new room properly instead.

When he opened the drawers of the desk, he discovered more quills, Muggle pens, parchment and booklets of paper, along with everything else he could have thought necessary. In the bottom drawer, much to his surprise, he found a laptop with its cords set neatly beside it.

It was not the only Muggle item in the room. Harry had found a CD player and a couple of CDs, although they were all of classical music – it didn't surprise him at all to think that this would be where Charles' taste turned to – and there was a TV in one corner of the room, although it had not been plugged in.

It was the first time he had seen any real Muggle technology in a wizards house – he didn't count some of the things that Arthur Weasley had lying around – and he found his interest in old Muggle things reawakening. He hadn't even thought of using computers since he had entered the Magical World five years ago.

He briefly considered turning the TV on, or trying to use the laptop, but he ended up deciding not to investigate them just yet. It was getting quite late now, and he had a long day, with the shopping and exploring the library. He had hoped that Charles would have come to see him by now, but his 'Important Guests' must still be demanding his attention.

Harry made a brief attempt to start on his homework before he decided to call it a night. Tomorrow would be plenty early enough to start working on it.

The next morning Charles came to see Harry, and smiled contentedly when he saw the boy in his new clothes. "That is a _vast_ improvement," he announced, and Harry smiled in return.

"Good morning," Harry greeted his new friend.

"It is indeed," Charles agreed. "I apologize for not coming to see you last night; I was rather busy with some vampire guests who were asking me to do things I would rather avoid. Thankfully, you provided the perfect excuse to stay out of things. Even they agreed that my first duty was to you as my ward."

"That's alright," Harry said, "Holly showed me to the library. It's _huge_, you've got a lot of books there."

"_We_ have a lot of books in there. As the last living Potter, you own them as much as I do," Charles replied. "I hope that you make good use of them."

"I found some yesterday, they're really interesting," Harry said, waving vaguely in the direction of the bookcase. Charles glanced over his selections and his eyebrows raised slightly.

"That's rather heavy reading for a teenager," he remarked.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He trusted Charles – he had come to live with him, after all – but he wasn't at all sure that he wanted to discuss the Prophecy with him just yet, or his destiny. He settled on a half-truth, "I'm the Boy Who Lived, that makes me pretty much top of Voldemort's hit list. I need to be able to defend myself."

Charles gave him a look that suggested he was well aware that Harry was leaving something important out, but he didn't press the issue. "A good point, you are a very sought-after young man," he agreed. "The better you can defend yourself, the more chance we have of keeping the family alive. I thought perhaps we could have breakfast together this morning?" Charles suggested a moment later, and Harry nodded in agreement. He followed Charles to the same room they had eaten in the day before, where a full meal was already waiting for them.

While they ate, Harry asked as many questions as he could about the house and it's history, and about his ancestors. Charles seemed more than delighted to share anecdotes about almost all of Harry's family, and talk about the various other properties that the family owned. Harry was surprised to hear just how wealthy his family was; it wasn't really something he had ever considered before, beyond knowing that he was very well off.

The dishes vanished as soon as they had finished eating, and Harry immediately noted that the table had changed from the day before; it now sported a glass top with a chessboard inlaid in silver in the centre.

"Do you play?" Charles asked, looking hopeful. "I have never been able to convince Wilfred or Lucy to have a game with me … or the house elves, for that matter."

"My friend Ron is really good at it," Harry said, "We play sometimes, but he always wins." He decided not to say that he was sure Charles could run rings around Ron, considering how long he had had to hone his skills.

"Would you care to join me in a game? I am sure you are better than you think," Charles offered. Harry shrugged his agreement, and immediately the animated chess pieces appeared on the board.

"You may play white," Charles said.

Harry nodded, and made the first move. Charles played, and then Harry did. With Ron, he had never really gotten all that better at playing, because he just moved without thinking. Charles claimed a very easy victory in the first round, then reset the board and showed Harry different moves he could have made to save himself. When he felt that Harry had a better idea of what was going on, they started a second game.

Harry very quickly learned that Charles _loved_ chess -even more than Ron- and that he wanted nothing more than someone who could provide him with a challenge. Within just a few games, Harry realized that he had probably learnt more about chess in the past hour than he had in the five years he'd been playing with Ron.

He was actually thinking moves through now, examining different possibilities before he actually made his move, and even though he didn't come close to beating Charles even once, when they stopped playing a few hours later he felt that maybe he'd be able to give Ron a run for his money when he got back to Hogwarts.

"I thought perhaps you would like to go flying today," Charles remarked when he sensed that Harry was getting bored of chess; he had stopped trying to consider every move and reverted to making the first play that seemed like it would work.

"That would be great – how far can I fly?"

"The borders of the property are clearly marked," Charles said, showing him to a window and pointing to the wall that ran around the entire property, "The area within the wall is warded so that no Muggle will see you, the wards continue upwards so you can fly as high as you like as long as you don't pass over the barrier."

"Awesome," Harry said, smiling broadly.

"Do you need me to show you back to your room?" Charles asked, and Harry nodded. He realized, when he got back to his room, that he could open a window that was more than large enough for him to fly out of. "I suggest that you leave the window open so that you know where to return once you have finished flying," Charles said, "But if you can't find it, just land anywhere on the property and call Holly, she'll be able to show you back."

Harry nodded. He changed into more casual clothes again – jeans and tshirt – and mounted his Firebolt. With Umbridge's ban having been in place for most of last year, Harry was absolutely delighted to be able to fly again. He spent hours and hours in the air soaring around, only returning to his room when he was starving.

He had a quick shower and changed clothes yet again before calling Holly and asking her to bring him lunch. While he was waiting for her to get back, he found that Hedwig had returned and was sleeping in her new cage, and that there was a letter resting on his pillows.

He went and opened it, half dreading what the Headmaster might have to say about him leaving the Dursley's.

_Dear Harry,_

_Leaving your relatives house was very irresponsible of you. The Death Eaters are out in force, as are the Dementors of Azkaban. Two members of the Order of the Phoenix have already died all too publicly in recent times, not counting Robert, who died while trying to keep you safe. You say that you are somewhere safe, but do you really understand the protections that are over you at your aunt and uncles? Please, take heed and return._

_I personally set up your protections there, and I know them better than anyone else could. Trust me when I say that you cannot possibly be as safe as you are there, wherever you are. Not even Hogwarts is quite as safe as the house of your relatives. I apologise if it seems that I am trying to run your life, but I must reinforce the lack of security across the Magical World. We have been making arrangements for you recently to try and make it safe to go to the Burrow for the rest of the summer – I know you have been restless at Privet Drive, and I am doing my best to make you more comfortable._

_I am afraid that I cannot simply allow you to remain where you are without making any effort to find you. Voldemort's minions are more intelligent than I think you realise, and unless I can be certain that one has not tricked you, I cannot leave you be. The Headquarters have been moved, I feel I must also warn you, and I had greatly wished to make contact with you, as I believe that you can help us with our present difficulties._

_Even if I wanted to, I could not call off the search teams at this point. An alert went out when you were discovered gone from your relatives, and Cornelius was made aware of the situation before your letter reached me. He is edgy enough at this point in time – the public are already starting to call for his resignation, and I believe that he sees finding you as being the only way that he could possibly regain their support. The longer you remain 'disappeared', the closer he will come to being forced to resign. He will not do this without protest, I warn you._

_Please, Harry, send word to the Burrow and let us know where you are. We will come to you and see if your current position is defendable, and do our best to make whatever security measures necessary. If we cannot secure your current location, then I will have to ask you to return to Privet Drive, or to the Burrow, if we have finished with our current arrangements by then._

_Yours truly,_

_Albus._

Harry frowned at the missive, trying to decide how it made him feel. It irritated him no end that Dumbledore wasn't willing to stay out of his life, but at the same time he knew that Dumbledore was just trying to do his best to look out for Harry.

He wondered how he should respond, but in the end decided to leave it and talk with Charles about it. He already knew that he would be telling Dumbledore as firmly as possible that he would under no circumstances allow the Order or the Ministry to come to him and 'make sure he was safe' but he didn't want to be rude about it.

He left the letter on his desk and ate his lunch when it arrived, then started to do some of his homework for the summer, and read some more of his new book.

* * *

Chapter edited 20 October 2008

Again, only small changes were made to this chapter in the most recent rewrite.

WolfMoon


	5. Summer

Disclaimer: Still not mine

Thanks: To my beta-reader, as ever!

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Five: Summer

Later on the afternoon Harry noticed a number of other books appear on his bookshelf, along with a note from Charles.

_Harry, I noticed your reading material from earlier. While it showed considerable thought in regards to defence using spellwork, I would also suggest these titles, which include the defeat of several prominent dark wizards throughout history, including the diaries of the people who defeated them._

_I have also sent you a number of books on politics, with the thought that you would do well to understand just how much power you wield, and a number of ways which you could use that to your advantage in your fight against Voldemort. While flat out attack is _a_ way of fighting him, it is the not the _only_ way. Another would be to remove his support base. If you could win back his allies and get them on your side, your power would grow substantially and his would decrease. While a lot of his followers will never listen to Dumbledore, given his little Order and other actions he has made, and will not come around to Fudge's side because the man is so clearly incompetent, if they were offered a third option – ie, yours – they may change their minds on where their loyalties lie._

_I apologise; this was supposed to be just a quick note to let you know that I provided you with some books that I felt you should read, not a lecture. If you wish to discuss the subject I just raised, might I suggest that we do so over a meal, or better yet a game of chess?_

_In any case, I hope you find the books to be both helpful and interesting, and I am sure we will speak very soon,_

_-Charles._

Harry smiled at the note; he supposed that Charles had a valid point. He had always considered himself to be part of Dumbledore's side, but it would perhaps work out better if he set himself up as an individual who was allied with Dumbledore and, potentially, the Ministry.

He put that matter out of his head for the moment; he would discuss it with Charles, as suggested, and see what conclusions they came to. He looked through the book that Charles had given him; _The History of the Ministry_ seemed to be about how and why the Ministry of Magic was formed, and how it had changed from its original goals; the other titles were wide ranging, but there were several on 'Purity of Blood' and the old wizarding families.

Harry had never really thought about them before, but he supposed that it would be a good idea for him to know where those families were coming from, and especially what made them turn to Voldemort for the solution to their problems. If he understood why they did things the way they did, maybe he would be able to change their minds on the topic.

He decided that he would finish the book he was reading first, and then tackle Charles' suggested reading.

"Good evening Harry," Charles greeted his young ward later that afternoon. "How was your day?"

"Great," Harry said, smiling. "The book I'm reading has heaps of really good pointers for spell work, and some really interesting spells as well … it's making me really want to get back to Hogwarts so that I can experiment with them!"

"No need for Hogwarts, my dear boy," Charles grinned, "I have spent a very long time in this place, and one of the more sneaky touches I've added is a block on the Ministry charm to detect under-age spellwork. I thought it might come in handy some time, and evidently I was right."

Harry's eyes widened, "You mean I can actually use magic here this summer?"

"Yes, indeed you can," Charles grinned at him. "If you want to practice combat magic, I'm something of an expert on the subject, I can probably help you out with it if you like."

"That would be really, really great!" Harry said enthusiastically, and Charles smiled quietly in agreement.

"If I may also suggest?" Charles paused, waiting for Harry's nod before he continued, "A strong body makes channeling strong magic a much more accomplishable feat. I would suggest you enroll in either the local gym or one the local martial arts clubs … or both. Martial arts would also help you to achieve mental calmness, something I see is often difficult for you."

Harry thought about it for all of a few seconds; he remembered sneaking out of his cupboard to watch Dudley's martial arts movies when he was much younger, and he remembered how much he had loved the way the people in them moved.

"Learning martial arts would be cool," he said to Charles, who nodded.

"I will see about getting you enrolled in the local school then; I believe the biggest school here practices Tae-Kwon-Do." Harry shrugged in sincere ignorance of the differentiations between schools and Charles nodded again. "I will also see about setting things up for you here; I will ask that some of my gym equipment be moved to the room to the left of yours, and for a potions lab and general practice room for spellwork be set up to the right of your room."

"It's really no big deal," Harry tried to say, but Charles waved it away.

"The majority of the rooms in this house are unused," he told Harry, "There is in fact absolutely nothing in the rooms adjoining yours, and I suggest that you make use of them. I have a very large store of potions ingredients also, that has little else to be used for."

Harry nodded, realizing that, like with all arguments he had with Charles, there was no chance that he would win them. Charles was much too stubborn for that. "I also wanted to talk to you about Dumbledore," he said instead. "He sent back a reply demanding that I tell him and the Order where I am so they can come and evaluate the safety measures here, or they'll keep looking for me all summer."

"Let them look. They will not find you here, my wards are far to extensive for that. But it would do well to be careful in composing your letter to Dumbledore, he is not someone you want to be too at odds with. I suggest telling him politely but firmly that you have made up your mind and would appreciate him keeping his nose out of your business, and that if he keeps asking you will simply stop responding at all."

"I guess," Harry said, a little doubtfully. "I'll go and write some draft letters anyway. I need to tell my friends a bit about what's going on; hopefully they'll understand that I'm not going to tell them about this and won't pester me too much on Dumbledore's orders."

"I am sure everything will work out fine for you and your friends," Charles told him gently and Harry nodded.

"I hope so. I don't see why it wouldn't. They couldn't tell me anything last year, and if they try to get me to talk I can just remind them of that."

"How very Slytherin of you," Charles remarked, and Harry blushed slightly. He didn't like being compared to the Snake house, but he didn't want to say so in front of Charles, who had been a Slytherin, after all. He left Charles shortly after and returned to his room.

_Dear Headmaster,_

_I have made my own wishes very clear, I feel. I do not wish to be disturbed for the remainder of the summer. I am satisfied that I am safe and the people I am with have my full trust. I am happy and doing exactly what I want to be doing. I am learning more than I would anywhere else, I think, and I feel confidant that my stay here will significantly increase my chances of surviving Voldemort's next attack._

_I will repeat my request that you stop looking for me, although I know that you won't listen. I am telling you this for your own good; you will not find me, no matter how hard you look. If you wish to waste your time, then please be my guest. I was only try to save you time._

_I have enclosed letters to my friends, but please let everyone at Headquarters know that I am well and that I miss them; if I thought I could come and see them and be able to return here afterward I would do so, but I know that you would demand I stay with you should I show my face in the wizarding world, so I will keep my distance._

_I will see you at Hogwarts on September 1__st__,_

_Have a good summer,_

_Harry._

He looked over the letter and nodded, it wasn't too rude at all. He then pulled another sheet of parchment over and wrote a quick message to Ron and Hermione, who were both already at Headquarters.

_Hey guys,_

_I'm sure that Dumbledore has already told you that I've run away from home. If he hasn't already he's going to ask you to find out where I am. Let me start by telling you that you can try all you like, I won't reveal my current location or any specific details of my summer._

_I'm sure you'll be just as understanding as I was when you couldn't tell me what was going on last summer; perhaps you'll understand how I felt (No Hermione, I'm not doing this in revenge. I want to stay here this summer and I don't want the Order interfering with that)._

_I already miss you guys and I'm already looking forward to seeing you on the train. Yes Hermione, I've made a start on my homework; No Ron, I haven't turned into a bookworm and I can actually fly while I'm here. I was flying most of this morning and it was brilliant. I hadn't realized how much I missed it._

_I went shopping with the people I'm staying with and bought heaps of new things, mostly Muggle clothes. It's great not to have to wear Dudley's old stuff; my clothes actually fit me now! There is a huge library here, Hermione, maybe when things calm down a bit and everything is out in the open (that may take awhile, sorry) I will bring you to see it. If you thought the library at Hogwarts was impressive … I'm going to stop tempting you now._

_I have a huge bedroom and it's really nice, with a gym in the room next door and a potions lab on the other side; I want to get better at Potions so that I can pass this year (if I make it into the class at all)._

_Um, not sure what else I can say. Please try not to worry about me too much, and have a good summer without me! Say hi to the twins and Ginny and Mr and Mrs Weasley and everyone else there – I asked Dumbledore to do that, but he might not have listened to me._

_I will do my best to keep in touch with you for the rest of the summer, but depending on what I'm doing my replies might be a bit few and far between._

_All the best,_

_Harry._

_P.S. Say Hi to Hagrid too, and tell him not worry either._

He read over that letter again and nodded to himself; that looked ok. He woke Hedwig up and gave her the letters, "Up for another long flight girl? These are going to London. Stay there for a few days if you need to get your energy back." Hedwig hooted, nipped his finger affectionately and flew off into the evening sky.

_Two days away from the Dursley's, _Harry thought, smiling to himself. They were already little more than a distant memory, and he got the feeling that he would never have to see them again.

Harry was surprised how quickly life at Potter Mansion fell into routine. He spent most of the first week there exploring as much of the place as he could; only calling for Holly to come and find him when he was well and truly lost. By the end of the first week he knew his way around, although there were several doors that were locked and Charles had asked him not try and get into them.

He spent a fair bit of time flying, still rejoicing in the freedom he felt while in the air, and he also spent a _lot_ of time reading. He finished the first book that he had picked up and spent hours in the room next to his bedroom practicing different spells and techniques.

He was reading some of the other books that Charles had recommended, in particular the ones on politics. He was surprised by how fascinating the subject was; all the ins and outs of the law and what was acceptable behaviour. He already had a few ideas on how he could approach the Ministry this year, and how to deal with the press.

He started going to Tae-Kwon-Doe as well, and since he only had two months of summer before he would be returning to Hogwarts, he was going there three times a week to try and learn as much as possible so that he would be able to practice on his own when he got to school and didn't have access to the Dojo.

Tae-Kwon-Doe, Harry found, was a great deal of fun and also very difficult at first. Even after just one week he was already feeling a great deal fitter than he ever remembered being; the exercise and large meals at Potter Manor were toning him up very quickly, and he was already starting to go through his growth spurt.

Even after just one week he was noticing a change in his spellwork as well. Tae-Kwon-Doe was improving both his physical strength and his mental clarity, and Harry was quickly finding that the spells he cast were gaining in power. He wondered how much more powerful he would be by the end of summer, if this was just the result of a week's training.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a very good summer. He had even finished most of his homework, although he found himself constantly going back to add new things to his essays that he read in some of Charles' books, much in the way Hermione did. Remembering a couple of the comments teacher's had made about Hermione's work, he tried to keep those additions down, and read over the essay to see if there was something else he could take out when he was including a new point. It certainly beat using big writing to try and make up the required length.

That weekend they made a trip to the magical area of Glasgow, spending a few hours there getting new robes for Hogwarts as well as general wear, new flying gloves and some new books that Charles had ordered in to the local book shop.

While they were there Harry spent quite a lot of time trying desperately not to laugh; everyone was talking about how Harry Potter had disappeared. At first it made him feel a little self-conscious, but before they had left Charles had put a quick spell on Harry's scar to make it almost invisible and no one seemed to recognize him.

He was quite surprised to learn how many people here supported him. He heard a lot of the people saying that they really needed a new Minister of Magic, what with the way Fudge had been acting toward Harry all last year.

Fudge was apparently desperate to find Harry, and had offered huge rewards to anyone who knew where Harry was or what he was doing, and he had been making frequent public requests for Harry to return, accompanied by grand promises of things he would do if Harry came to the Ministry, ranging from letting him train with the Aurors to becoming an honorary member of the Wizengamot.

"I'm almost tempted with the Wizengamot offer," Harry admitted to Charles while they laughed over _The Daily Prophet_ late on Sunday night. "But I'm guessing that they wouldn't actually listen to me at all."

"I highly doubt they would actually accept Fudge's proposal to give you a seat there," Charles agreed, "You are not even sixteen yet, after all, and it is generally accepted that no one under the age of seventeen should be allowed into the Wizengamot."

"There have been some exceptions to that rule," Harry remembered. At Charles's recommendation he had been reading a large book on the Ministry of Magic from its beginnings to the present day. He was constantly surprised at how much he was learning about the Magical World this summer. "There were a few heirs of ancient families thought to need a voice in the Wizengamot who were emancipated and given positions there."

"Indeed," Charles nodded. "I am very glad to see that you are getting a firmer grasp on politics in the Wizarding World, it is something that will be very useful for you. As always, if you have any questions regarding anything you've read, you may always come to me."

Harry smiled in agreement. He was beginning to see where Hermione was coming from when she went on and on about some of the things she read, even if they usually didn't interest him all that much. He and Charles had nightly discussions on the things that Harry had been reading – or they did whenever Charles didn't have 'Important Guests' to see to.

There was a soft mewing at the door, and it swung open to admit a dainty little cat with fur the colour of midnight and huge pale eyes. She looked between the two people in the room, then bounded across the room and up onto Harry's lap.

"Hey there Wraith," Harry murmured to the animal, running a hand down her back. The cat purred loudly and settled down very quickly. She was one of two cats in the house, the other was named Spectre, and he didn't much care for Harry. Wraith, on the other hand, absolutely adored him and often slept in his room.

"How is your spell work going Harry?" Charles asked after an interval.

"Very well, I've found some really interesting offensive and defensive spells in your books; things I really think they should have taught us at Hogwarts, but I guess with all the changes in Defense teachers it's a bit hard to make a program to stick to," Harry said. "If I'd known some of these spells I would have done so much better at the Ministry last year." His throat closed up slightly at the thought of that event, but he forced the sadness away.

"Excellent, I hope that it will help you in future confrontations," Charles said, then paused. Harry recognized the pause as Charles about to suggest something else he felt Harry should learn, and sure enough the next words out of the vampire's mouth were, "You should have read in some of those accounts of old battles against the dark about silent casting? The act of thinking a spell rather than speaking it aloud?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "I read about it a couple of times; to maintain the benefit of surprise right?"

"Indeed. Many Dark Wizards are foolish duelers. They like to say their spells aloud to inspire more terror in the people they are facing. The more intelligent of your foes will probably try to use silent casting, although it does require mental discipline. You would do well to beat them at their own game, try to use obscure spells and avoid using the same ones too often, and also to cast them silently, so your opponent will not know what you are casting and will have less chance of countering it."

Harry nodded; he could definitely see how that would be helpful. "If you like, I will help you with learning the technique," Charles offered. "I am a master of it myself and could probably share with you some helpful learning tips."

"That would be great," Harry said.

"Shall we go to your training rooms then?" Charles suggested, rising fluidly to his feet. Harry tried to stand in much the same manner, but got the feeling that he hadn't managed it nearly as well as Charles had. He followed his new mentor out of their chess room and back to his set of rooms.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was furious.

And that was putting it lightly. His watchers had lost Harry completely, and then there was the note that Harry had sent him. How could the child possibly know the dangers that he was in? Albus knew them, was all too intimately familiar with them, and he had dedicated years to tweaking the wards on Privet Drive to protect Harry from as many of them as possible.

He was sure that Harry had somehow fallen under the control of their enemies. In his right mind, Harry would surely see reason and return to his aunt and uncle's. He had thought that Harry understood the blood protection that was over him there, but perhaps he had been wrong.

The majority of the Order had been given the task of finding him, and they were currently scouring the country, with the help of the Aurors and the magical population in general; Dumbledore had been against making a spectacle of Harry's disappearance, not wanting to alert the Death Eaters, but the Minister hadn't listened at all.

Now all Dumbledore could do was pray that it was an Order member or one of the uncorrupt Aurors who found the boy, and that they would find him _soon_. As soon as Harry was back in his clutches he would make sure that an event such as this could never happen again; he was already regretting not having put tracking charms on any of Harry's things, he had wanted to give the boy some form of privacy.

He also needed rather desperately to speak with Harry regarding Sirius's Will. He had to make sure that Kreacher had passed into Harry's care and Grimmauld Place remained uncompromised so that the Order could go back to using it as Headquarters. Dumbledore had grown used to the 'comforts' the house had provided, and very much wanted to stop holding Order meetings in his office.

In his own mind, Dumbledore was utterly convinced that Harry needed help and that he, Albus, was the only person who could provide all that was necessary. The Wizarding World was at war, and having Harry present was essential for their success. He could _not_ afford to lose the boy.

With a sigh, Albus turned his mind from Harry Potter and considered what he was going to do about Fudge and the rest of the Ministry of Magic. If Harry wasn't found_ very_ soon Fudge would be forced into resigning, which Albus did not consider being a bad outcome. He just wished he had more information, and that he could discover who would become Minister when the position became vacant.

Right now, unfortunately, he could only hope that it would be someone who understood about the Order of the Phoenix, open to his own suggestions, and above all, someone who was not under the control of Lord Voldemort. "Hurry home, Harry," he whispered, "The world needs you safe … and so do I."

* * *

_Ron and Hermione,_

_This is the best summer I've ever had! I have been working really hard, reading up on old battles against Dark Wizards and about polictics and stuff. I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts and practice some of the spells I've been learning._

_I know the Order mustn't like it, but I'm sure you guys are glad that you aren't stuck at Headquarters all summer like last year; that must have really sucked. I'm glad you're having more fun at The Burrow and I'm sorry to miss seeing you there. Thank you for inviting me to join you there for a birthday party, but I'm afraid I must decline. I am still not ready to show myself, and I feel that the Order would be highly unlikely to let me leave again. While I would love to see you again, I am not willing to do so with the probability that I would not be able to return to my new home afterward._

_I have been learning Tae-Kwon-Doe and flying a lot this summer, I'm also learning a few mental techniques for spell casting and general use; it's been really helpful in getting my emotional issues under control. I think it safe to say that I won't be blowing up at you all the time this year when you don't deserve it. Sorry about that, by the way. I was a real prat last year, and you guys stood through it with me - I want you to know that I appreciate that, I really do. I wouldn't have made it through last year without you.  
_

_There isn't much else to say, really. I already told you about having access to a laptop computer and a television – I'm sure Mr Weasley would love to see both – and how this house has actually managed to integrate magic and Muggle technology effectively._

_I'm sure that Ron is disgusted and Hermione is delighted to know that I have already finished my summer homework, but I keep having to go back and re-write it with some of the new information I've found in the books that I have access to here._

_I haven't received my OWL results yet, but I'm really hoping that they get here soon. I'm worried about not being able to get into Potions. Snape might be horrible but I really do want to be an Auror. I hope that your holidays are going as well as mine have been, and I look forward to hearing back from you soon,_

_Love,_

_Harry._

Harry looked over the letter to his friends and nodded to himself. He was writing to them less frequently than they might have liked, but his days were very much taken up with all the reading and exercise he was doing this summer. He had had to cut down the amount of time he spent flying to keep up with Tae-Kwon-Doe, silent casting, dueling practice, reading all the books Charles kept recommending as well as the ones he found himself and having his discussions over Chess with Charles in the evening.

The summer really was the best he'd ever had. He had now met the second house elf bound to the Potter Family, a delightful creature by the name of Jinty, and already fitted in to the way things worked in the Manor. He was still a little confused on exactly where the fine line between 'servant' and 'friend' rested with Lucy and Wilfred.

Wilfred was always somewhere close by when Harry was out of the house; he'd be gardening just in sight when Harry was flying, or would accompany him if he was walking around the grounds. Wilfred also took Harry into town for his Tae-Kwon-Doe lessons, and always stayed to watch throughout them as a protective presence. Harry was surprised to note that he didn't even mind having a watcher at these times; Wilfred's presence didn't annoy him like the Order's had.

The two of them would spend hours discussing Quidditch and the performances of various professional players – Wilfred was a huge fan of the sport – and Harry would sit in the front seat of the car when it was just the two of them going out and about; but when Harry asked if the grounds keeper would come flying with him, he was given a scandalous look and was immediately aware that he had crossed the line of propriety.

"It is something that you will get a feel for – where exactly propriety kicks in. Wilfred and Lucy were both raised to serve other people, and I was raised to have servants. We fit together, and once you get used to things, you'll fit in as well," Charles told him when he complained.

"I don't see why he can't come flying with me though," Harry said again.

"It wouldn't be proper," was all Charles would say on the subject, and Harry reluctantly let it drop. He knew that since Wilfred agreed with Charles, there wasn't likely to be anything he could do about it.

* * *

Chapter edited 20 October 2008

Again, only minor changes in this chapter.

WolfMoon


	6. Turn for the Worse

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Thanks: To my beta, who has now gone over the first scene in the story! I hope it works better now.

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Six: Turn for the Worse

A knock on his door stirred Ron Weasley from his sleep and he stumbled over to open the door, blinking blearily at Hermione. "Ron, I need to talk to you," she said quietly, taking a half step forward; Ron moved back from the door to let her in. He was still too much asleep to be embarrassed by the fact that he was dressed only in tattered boxers. Hermione didn't pay attention to them anyway, closing the door firmly behind her and turning the lock quickly. She whipped out her wand and muttered a few soft incantations, which Ron's slowly-wakening brain identified as locking and silencing charms. Whatever Hermione wanted to talk about, it was important.

Just before she turned away, Ron realised that _Hermione_ was in his room and he was wearing almost nothing. He dove behind the bed and pulled his brilliant orange blankets over to cover himself at least a little as she turned around, and heard her tutting somewhere above his head while he scrambled around looking for his robes. "Don't look!" he ordered his friend and she sighed.

"I'm standing at the door looking towards it Ron, if you want to move around the room. Honestly, I don't care what you're wearing."

Internally, Ron cheered. Hermione wasn't disgusted by the thought of him being naked. He was careful not to let his thoughts show on his face though; he wasn't entirely sure she was interested yet, and he _really_ didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of her. He respected their friendship much more than that.

He grubbed around on the floor for a few moments, sorting through the piles of rubbish that had been growing since he had returned to The Burrow at the beginning of the summer. "What did you need to talk about?" he asked as he located a reasonably clean looking robe and pulled it on.

"Harry," in a tone that clearly stated he shouldn't have even needed to ask. Silently, Ron berated himself. Of course she wanted to talk about Harry. Everyone always wanted to talk about Harry. With some difficulty, Ron shoved his feelings of jealousy aside; he had been thinking about their famous friend a lot lately.

"What about him?" Ron asked. "It's alright to turn around now," he added when he realised that Hermione was still looking studiously in the direction of the door. He flopped onto his bed as she turned, and patted the area beside him. He was quietly delighted when Hermione settled herself there with no objection.

"That last letter he sent, he mentioned that he had taken up Tae-Kwon-Do," she said quietly.

"What's that?" Ron asked; he'd been wondering since he had read the letter.

"It's a Muggle ... sport, I guess," Hermione said, casting around for the closest word wizards had to describe martial arts. "I've been trying to decide if I should say something to the Order ... there probably aren't all that many schools of Tae-Kwon-Do around ... well, there will be a lot, but he said that he was in a fairly large Dojang - that's what they call the place where they train - and there probably aren't a lot of big schools in the country. It probably wouldn't be all that difficult to track down the one that he's signed up with."

"So what are you waiting for?" Ron asked. "Tell the Order and lets get Harry back!"

"But ... do you think we should tell them?" Hermione asked, anxiously twisting her hands in her lap. "In his letters, Harry sounds really happy where he is. He's getting over what happened with Sirius and he even apologisied for how nasty he was to us last year! I don't think he would like being dragged back to Privet Drive, or worse, taken back to Headquarters with that insane house elf ... I know that Dumbledore doesn't think that Harry is safe, but Harry seems so sure that he is!"

"Am I dreaming or something? Hermione speaking against _Dumbledore, _and insulting house elves?" Ron teased her absently; his thoughts were stuck on what she'd said. It was true - he couldn't remember the last time Harry had seemed so happy, for so long.

"I was just thinking ... Dumbledore was doing what he thought was best last year as well, avoiding Harry, making him take those lessons with Snape. The lessons with Snape didn't work at all, and Harry not learning Occlumency got Sirius killed and left Harry blaming himself. Dumbledore avoiding Harry left Harry feeling that Dumbledore had lost all confidence in him, and you could see how that made him feel. Those things may have been done for Harry's 'benefit', but they didn't seem to do him any good, did they? And I'm not insulting house elves, Kreacher is most definitely insane, but it's not his fault, it's a byproduct of how he has been treated."

Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah, I remember, and I think you're right. We've got a pretty important choice to make. Harry might _not_ be safe wherever he is, and Dumbledore probably knows what he's talking about with the wards and maybe Harry has been taken by Death Eaters ... but we're Harry's friends and the really important question to ask is whether or not Harry would ever forgive us if we told the Order and they brought him back." Ron let the comment about house elves slide; there were more important things to consider now.

"I really don't think he would ... not for a very long time anyway," Hermione sighed. "So that's it then? We keep this to ourselves and let Harry enjoy the holidays?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "And if he isn't on the Hogwarts Express, then we'll tell Dumbledore and they can go and find him. He can't not come to Hogwarts!"

"But what if he really is in danger? What if he gets killed because I didn't say anything?"

"Hermione, if he _is_ in danger, then he's probably not really doing Tae-Kwon-Do and nothing we say could really help him," Ron pointed out and Hermione sighed. To his surprise, she leant up against him.

"I just ... I worry that's all. I feel better now, knowing that you came to same conclusion I did, though."

Cautiously Ron wrapped his arms around her. "Harry will be fine. He always is, somehow," he pointed out.

"I hope so."

* * *

Several more weeks passed in a haze of summer bliss. Harry still wrote to his friends, but less often now; nothing had really changed and he knew that Ron and Hermione were both getting annoyed with his allusions, especially since he always refused to say anything concrete. Sometimes he did it on purpose, just so they would know how he had felt the year before, but mostly he tried not to be too vindictive.

Harry eventually figured out how to use the laptop computer in his room. He was surprised at how much of the Muggle world he had forgotten in the years he'd been at Hogwarts. Everything about the computer had been foriegn to him, although some of that was due to the huge advances that technology had made in the years he'd been away. Once he _had_ figured out how to use the computer, he spent a lot of time browsing the internet. With a lot of sifting and careful choice of key words, Harry managed to find some real sites from his world, although mostly anything to do with magic was highly fictional.

The websites he found were actually very interesting. They were run almost exclusively by half-bloods and Mugge borns, which wasn't at all surprising, and had a lot of information for people who had not been born in the Wizard world. Harry learnt a few interesting things that people like Ron would have taken completely for granted. He also found a lot of accounts people had written about their transition into the magical world, and Harry was surprised at how much some of those accounts could help him, even five years after coming into the world.

The television also quickly became something that Harry made use of; mostly tracking what was happening in the Muggle world and seeing what sort of cover stories the wizards were creating for the murder sprees that Voldemort and his followers were engaging in. Most of them were very good, and if Harry hadn't been reading about the same events in reverse, he wouldn't be at all suspicious.

Tae-Kwon-Doe was going very well for Harry as well, he was picking things up quickly and was very proud of the skills he was developing. His Sensei was impressed with the amount of dedication Harry had for learning the art; Harry chose not to mention that he had a madman trying to kill him. Harry fervently wished that he had thought to take up martial arts before - he wasn't looking forward to having to leave the Dojang at the end of his summer holidays, but he wanted to learn a lot more than he had so far.

He generally kept at a bit of a distance from the other people in his class, mostly because he didn't really know what to talk about with Muggle's any more; his classmates were generally talking about the most recent movies or Muggle sports that Harry didn't follow. He also didn't want to get close to anyone here, when he knew that he'd be going away to Hogwarts for the better part of the year, and wouldn't really be able to explain where he was going or why they weren't able to keep in contact with him.

But things couldn't stay as happy as they were forever, not in his life. In mid July, two weeks before Harry's birthday, they took a drastic change, though for better or worse, Harry never could decide.

It was noon, and Harry had taken his seat in the dining room, as he had on every other day, waiting for Charles and Lucy to show up. In just another two weeks, he would be sixteen, and he was aware that Charles was planning something big, although the vampire refused point-blank to say what. Harry got the impression that it would be more than just a party.

The door opened and Charles came in, followed by Lucy, bearing a tray of food. It was only when he saw the sheer amount of food that she brought that it struck him how much more he was eating compared to previous summers, and he had definitely noticed how much of a change it made in his appearance. He had already grown a great deal since arriving at Potter Manor and Charles was making noises about needing to take him shopping again for better fitting clothes.

The day went normally; He and Charles played chess while they ate, and continued to play while they discussed Harry's most recent forays into the literary world, his progress with his spell work and his improving grasp on silent casting. Charles had proved an excellent mentor on that particular technique, and Harry was progressing very well. The spells he cast silently were still significantly less powerful than when he spoke aloud, and he had difficulty casting unfamiliar or lesser used spells at all, but he was getting better almost daily.

"By the end of the school year there shouldn't be any difference between speaking or thinking your spells," Charles remarked that day, "But you will need to keep practicing at Hogwarts. I imagine most of your classes will be working on it this year so you should have plenty of opportunity. Once you're feeling more comfortable with the technique, I would suggest trying to master silently casting spells _before_ you try to speak the incantation, so that your magic becomes more familiar with your thoughts than your words."

"It makes a difference, then?" Harry asked, then elaborated, "Which one you learn first, thinking or speaking, it makes a difference?"

"Yes," Charles nodded, "Most definitely. The reason your spells are still less powerful when you think the incantation is because your magic is already used to being channeled through the spoken word. If you had learnt to cast them silently before you learn to say the incantations, it would be the other way around, but once you have mastered both techniques it should cease to make any difference at all."

After lunch and their talk, Harry returned to his room, went for a quick flight and spent a little over an hour practicing his Tae-Kwon-Doe in his practice room, and then had a long soak in his bath and settled in for an evening of reading, browsing the internet and watching television.

When he turned off the computer and closed his book he found that Wraith had snuck in while he was reading and was curled up on the bed, clearly waiting for Harry to join her there before she got completely comfortable. Hedwig was glaring at the cat rather venomously – the two creatures did not get along, and each seemed to resent any attention that Harry paid to the other. Harry tried not to give either pet greater amounts of attention, because he didn't really want to be on their bad sides. Sometimes he was reminded very strongly of Ron and Hermione.

To keep Hedwig happy, Harry petted her for a little while and told her what a brilliant owl she was, while Wraith mewed pathetically from the bed, ordering Harry to come and hug her and sleep. It was only when he was sure that Hedwig wasn't going to feel neglected that Harry clambered into his bed and rubbed Wraith's head with an affectionate hand. Hedwig stretched her wings and soared out into the night sky once she had seen Harry safely into his bed.

The weeks at Potter Manor had done wonders to Harry's sleeping habits; he didn't dream about Sirius falling through the veil, or about Cedric, didn't have nightmares about Voldemort killing his friends and there had been absolutely no nightmares _from _Voldemort since the vision about Sirius. Even his scar was hurting less frequently, and was barely more than a twinge when he felt anything at all. These days he slept deeply and rarely remembered his dreams, just woke in the morning with a faint sense of contentment and a vague recollection of a pleasant night.

These good times were not to last, however, and the moment that he relaxed fully into sleep, he knew that something was wrong. Rather than a pleasant blankness that was only ever partially remembered upon waking in the morning, he was in a cold, dark place and was fully aware of his surroundings.

He couldn't feel the warmth of his bed, the sheets on the cat that was snuggled up next to him; instead he felt that he was standing at the centre of a square room that reeked of a fathomless evil.

He recoiled with shock and disgust under the sudden change, and he felt the evil of the room seeping into his skin, feeding on the chill that was rapidly taking hold; it draining away his energy and his emotions faster than any Dementor ever had. He screamed before he could help it, but the sound was swallowed up before it could reach his ears, and the room seemed to pulse, with something almost like satisfaction.

Harry tried to think, reached instinctively to the pocket where he kept his wand, but it wasn't there. It was on the bedside table where he left it while he slept, but that memory was only a vague presence somewhere in the depths of his mind.

The similarity to a Dementor struck Harry again, and he tried to summon up his happiest memories; chess with Charles, flying, cuddling Wraith, winning the House Cup at Hogwarts. "Expecto Patronum!" he cried, hoping that even without a wand the words might have some effect, but the darkness was unchanged, and he realized almost immediately that the attempt was futile.

On the far side of the room, a dark mist appeared and Voldemort stepped out of it, looking directly at Harry with a triumphant smirk gracing his lipless mouth, red eyes blazing with victorious light.

Harry shivered and backed away slightly; in his 'real' dreams Voldemort had never been able to see him before, and he was scared of the implications. This wasn't like any other nightmare he'd had, and he knew that the difference was incredibly dangerous.

"You've been hiding Potter," Voldemort hissed softly, "The whole world is looking for you – what a pity for you that I found you first. You can never escape Lord Voldemort, you should have known that."

"Seems I've been escaping you for years now," Harry drew on his courage and forced himself to speak back to the monster before him.

"You only avoided your fate," Voldemort didn't seem interested in being baited, "You never truly escaped me. And now you a trapped where no force on Earth can save you! This delightful place will feed on your emotions, your power; drain them away until there is nothing of _you_ left. All of your power will be mine, and your body will be my puppet to use as I please. What do you think of that, Potter?"

Harry barely suppressed another shiver. The malevolence and the coldness of the room were getting to him, his skin was already numb, and he could hardly feel his body any more. But his emotions were still burning strong; he somehow knew that they would be the last to dim. "You're bluffing," his voice was stronger than he expected, his words full of a cool confidence that was a product of the time he had spent with Charles.

"This is no bluff, little Potter. You are going to die here, and now you know exactly what will happen when you do – I do so hope that the knowledge will make your last moments of life as miserable as they should be. You will be aware of your impending death, your utter destruction, until the very last second. Lord Voldemort remembers what those moments were like, but where I had my back up plan, there will be nothing for you beyond death!"

Then, he was gone; the memory of his evil laughter ricocheting around the walls, and Harry was alone in the evil room, feeling his powers slowly draining away from him, helpless to do anything to stop him. But he tried–he would not give in without a fight, damn it! No way was he going to let Voldemort win easily, even if defeat was seemingly inevitable.

His mind was filled with cold determination, and, beneath the coldness of his concentration his emotions and his power burned like molten lava, refusing to give in to the icy chill that the room was slowly extending deeper into his mind.

* * *

Wraith was curled up contentedly against the human teenager; he was warmer than Charles, but more restless. The cat was rarely able to sleep through the whole night, but the warmth was enough to tempt her back here, night after night.

The cat was already quite used to waiting for the boy to settle; he tended to move around a little during the first little while he was sleeping. Wraith quickly realized that tonight was different, however. First the human's heart started beating faster; she could hear it pumping blood and adrenaline through his system and his breath was coming faster, more urgently.

He was sweating now, but it was a cold sweat, and Wraith could feel his body heat dissipating as though an unknown source was creating a void and sucking all the heat out. Wraith inched back, as the bed around the human got colder and colder. She didn't want that coldness to touch her.

Wraith remembered her duty then. The new master was in definite trouble, and she was there to watch him as well as get petted and generally have his company. She had no idea what was wrong with him, but she could feel the badness that was coming off him in waves.

She hesitated a fraction of a second more, not wanting to leave her new human alone, then nodded firmly to herself and leapt from the bed, racing through the house as fast as she could move until she came to a door left purposefully ajar and sprang through it.

Inside the library, Charles was roaming his bookshelves, looking for the most appropriate selections to leave with his young ward over the coming days; he spent many nights here, looking for the titles he thought would be most beneficial. He was so absorbed by his task that he at first didn't notice he had company.

The black feline took a flying leap, landing elegantly on the table and mewing loudly for attention. Immediately, Charles snapped the book shut and sprang to his feet, "Something's wrong with Harry?" he asked, and the cat mewed again, affermatively now. Immediately the vampire was moving, darting through the corridors with a speed greater than any normal being could hope to accomplish.

Her duty done, Wraith padded slowly back to the bedroom of the young human who scratched so well, knowing that the master would see to it that the child was alright. She had trust in the master, and that trust had never been unfounded in the past.

In Harry's room, Charles was beside his young ward in a second, accessing Blood Magic, which all vampires have an instinctive grasp of, to discover what had happened. What his magic showed him terrified him completely, but his mind immediately started searching for solutions, even though his heart was heavy with the knowledge that there was only one thing that could save the child now.

Trapped in the cold, evil room Harry was aware that he was losing. His concentration kept slipping, and he was aware of the molten core of his emotions and his magic being slowly frozen by the persistant cold. More and more he was feeling like an empty husk, with only the memory of emotion remaining.

It frightened Harry more than he liked to think, the feeling of slowing being devoured by this place. He kept fighting, pushing all of his willpower and concentration into the fight, but he knew that Voldemort had been right, and the battle was already lost.

He didn't like the thought of giving up, though, and he resolved to fight until the last moment even if his death and defeat _were_ inevitable now. In a distant corner of his mind not taken up with fighting the cold, he hoped that Charles would realize that he was different when Voldemort took over his form, and make sure that the dark wizard gained no further power from this.

He was still holding on to the distant hope that perhaps something would happen at the last moment, that _anything_ could happen to get him out of this battle, even at this late time.

Suddenly pain flared, racing through his body like a shock wave, and the black room was dissolving, the evil presence still clinging, unwilling giving up its hold on him, but the pain was so severe that he forgot about his fight. Then the room seemed to fade away. _This is it,_ Harry thought, defeated and exhausted, _I'm dying, and Voldemort has won._

* * *

Yay cliffie!

Chapter edited 21 October 2008

Minor grammatical changes only.

WolfMoon


	7. Life Has Never Felt So Good

Disclaimer: I checked. It's still not mine.

Thanks: To my beta again, as always! Thanks for the great job!

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Seven: Life Has Never Felt So Good

For almost a week, Harry tossed and turned, coming close to the brink of waking up, only to fade back into the deepest recesses of unconsciousness. Through those endless seven days, Charles stood by, never sleeping, rarely eating, doing everything he could to lift his young ward from those dark caverns of the mind, and bring him back to the light.

And, painfully, slowly, Harry responded. His cold flesh gradually began to warm again and his breathing took on a more regular pattern. His skin was paler than before, and healthy colour refused to come to his cheeks. Charles ordered the curtains to remain shut day and night, and had a magical fire built in the room, keeping the inside temperature as hot as any summer day should be.

Throughout that time, Lucy came by often. She would bring food, warm cloths to rest on Harry's forehead, or just words of comfort and hope. With her help, Charles battled against the darkness that was taking over his mind while Harry continued to be unresponsive to all attempts to awaken him.

Charles had allowed himself to get closer to Harry than he had to anyone else in over a century, convinced that his last descendant would be a safe person to befriend, that the boy would not leave him any time soon.

But perhaps his judgment had been too hasty. He wondered if was at fault for Harry's current condition. But no … if he hadn't intervened, Harry would have died anyway … the boy would wake, and all would be well. He just hoped that it would be soon.

As he sat there beside Harry's huge bed, noting the way that Harry seemed even more washed out than was natural because of the bright colours around them, bleaching his already pale skin to a deathly white, Charles sighed softly.

The bedclothes were warm reds, as were the walls and the hangings around the bed, and the bright flowers that Lucy had gathered had been set around the room as well, so that it would seem more welcoming when Harry finally awoke. But the whole effect only highlighted how pale and thin Harry seemed at the centre of it. Tenderly Charles' delicate hand stroked back Harry's fringe.

"It's long since time you woke up, child," he murmured. "We miss you, and we want you returned to us. Please, come back to us. We love you."

Harry's eyelids fluttered, then opened a crack, and the boy's mouth worked for a moment, before he managed to speak, "Love you too," he whispered, voice hoarse with misuse, and then his eyes closed again, and his breathing slowed. He was asleep again, but this time it was a deep, healing sleep. No longer was he held prisoner by the harsh unconsciousness that had plagued him.

Charles softly rang the bell in Harry's room, summoning Lucy, "He has awakened; the cycle is broken. He sleeps now, but it is a healing rest," he told her when she came. "Bring food, lots of it. He will need it after so long without."

Lucy nodded, and hurried away, and Charles returned to Harry's bedside, and waited for him to awaken properly. There was much that he needed to talk about with the boy, and none of it was anything he wished to discuss. He told himself that his actions had been for the best, but had they really? Had he perhaps been selfish, acting on what was best for _him_, not Harry? He could not know, not for sure.

He had done the only thing that he could have, that much was certain. Lucy returned with steaming food piled high on a silver platter, which she left at Charles' direction on the bedside table, before retreating from the room at Charles' request. "I need to speak with him first," he said to her. "I will summon you when that is done. Be ready."

She looked into his eyes and must have seen some of the torment he felt reflected there, because she nodded without protest and left. When he returned to the bed, he found Harry stirring, the scents of the food wafting through his nose, calling to his starving belly, and summoning his body to awaken again.

Harry's body was weak, and he needed Charles's help to sit up, propped up on his pillows. Charles had to help him eat, when his arms were too weak to wield the knife. Harry could manage to lift the fork to his mouth, chew and swallow the food, but his hand shook alarmingly. As he ate though, his arm steadied, and he did not stop eating until all the food was gone from his plate.

When Charles set the platter aside, Harry looked after it longingly, as if wishing there had been more to eat, but there would be enough food later on … for now they needed to talk. "We have much to discuss, you and I," Charles remarked, and Harry looked at him, nodding slowly.

"I was in a dark place," he said, voice wavering, then firming again. "It was _evil_. Voldemort came to me, and he said that the place would steal my powers and destroy my soul, giving them all to him instead, and that when my soul and mind were gone, he would be able to take over my body." He shuddered slightly, thinking how close he had come to that fate. Then another part of Voldemort's speech came back to him, "He said he knew where I was, he's going to find us."

Charles looked at the boy, and was alarmed by the lack of reaction these words seemed to cause in him. Harry's voice was without much emotion as he said this, yet Charles knew that discovery was one of Harry's greatest fears, and a week ago, Harry would have been going frantic with worry over the remotest possibility, yet here he was, speaking as calmly as he might about a painting on the wall, or a news article he had read.

"He won't," Charles assured him softly, choosing not to address this issue as yet, "He can't. There is no way he could find you. I _assure_ you that this is the case. You know I wouldn't lie to you."

Harry nodded slightly, before continuing his explanation as to what had happened. Although he knew much of what had gone on, Charles let the boy talk, knowing that it would make some things easier for Harry to understand later. The boy needed to come to his own conclusions about what had happened to him.

Harry calmly described how he had fallen asleep and immediately appeared in the room, talked briefly about how the room had felt and then recounted the conversation he'd had with Voldemort when the dark wizard had appeared there. He finished by describing the fight he had put up against the room.

"But, just before I would have given in, I felt pain. Pain greater than anything I'd ever experienced. At first I thought it was death coming to take me … but then I realised, it was helping me. Do you know what it was, Charles?"

Again, Charles realised, there was little emotion in what Harry was saying. He chose words that might encourage emotion from those he related the incident to, but as far as Charles could tell, his voice held little inflection that could be taken as emotion, and his face was smooth and still.

"Yes, I know," Charles said softly. Harry looked up, hearing the pain and guilt that filled Charles's voice, and he knew immediately what had happened, easily putting things together in his mind.

"You turned me, didn't you?" Harry asked, still without any emotion in his voice, which worried Charles further. Harry found his own lack of reaction strange as well; much as he had come to love Charles, he had never felt any desire to be a vampire, knowing that to do so would end the life he knew irrevocably, but now it suddenly seemed to be unimportant.

Vampires fascinated him, and he felt that he probably understood the race more clearly than any human ever had. He had read a number of books from Charles's library and the powers that these books hinted at – some of which Charles had confirmed – had been highly attractive.

He remembered thinking how much he would have liked to learn to use those powers, but he also remembered that he had never thought the sacrifice to be worth it. He had always known that he would never make the choice to exchange his humanity for knowledge and power like Voldemort had.

But the choice had been taken away from him now. Voldemort's actions had caused Harry to lose his own humanity, but Harry didn't feel angry about it; he knew what had happened and he accepted it. These thoughts flashed through his mind in the instant before Charles spoke.

"Yes … and no," Charles said slowly. "I have started the process of Turning you, but becoming a vampire is not a one step process. All of your human blood must be drained and replaced with vampiric blood. In the past, we tried to do this all at once, but it was usually fatal for the human and sometimes for the vampire as well. It is now done in several stages, to keep both parties safe.

"I took some of your blood and replaced it with my own, to make you only partially vampiric. Academically speaking you would probably be considered half vampire, and therefore half human still. It was very wrong of me; both to feed on you and to begin to Turn you, but … I did not want to watch you die. I have wronged you greatly, and if you wish to hate me, I will consider it my due punishment."

"I do not blame you," Harry told his friend and ancestor. "I would have died, and the consequences of _that_ would have been horribly far-reaching. Had I been able to speak with you and you had told me it was my only option to survive, I would have told you do exactly as you did."

Charles let out a long sigh, and Harry could see that the vampire had been totally convinced that Harry would despise him for the actions he had taken. "That is well. All new vampires need a mentor, and I had hoped that you would remain here so that I could teach you everything you need to know about our kind."

Harry nodded wearily. He was exhausted but still starving despite the huge meal he had consumed. To take his mind off the hunger until the food settled in his stomach he spoke his thoughts, "What are the consequences of this action? You said that I am not fully vampire, but I'm not fully human either."

"No, you aren't," Charles said, desperately falling back to his centuries old attitude of calm infallibility. "You are more human than vampire; your body will become stronger, your sight will improve, you will be able to move with greater grace and speed, though you will not be as strong or fast as I am. The downsides are that your eyes will be more sensitive to light, you will have to be careful not to be blinded in direct sun or other bright lights, and your skin will burn much easier than before. Staying outside for long without proper protection from the sun will make you weak and you will hurt for days."

"You said I would become stronger, but I feel weaker than I ever remember being," Harry said, confused.

Charles sighed wearily. "The cost of your new abilities is the need to drink the blood of the living to survive," he said heavily. "You will not need to feed often, nor take much when you do, but if you do not then your body will fail and you will die, like any vampire will if he does not drink.

"To stay alive, you should need to take no more than a mouthful of blood every couple of months, but that will just sustain your new abilities. The more you take – up to a point – the stronger it will make you, and your vampire abilities will become stronger and easier for you to access."

"I see," Harry nodded. This was where his major problem with being a vampire had come from: the need to steal life from others to survive. But Charles said he didn't need to take much, and he didn't need to kill people. The idea was still not particularly pleasant, "What if I don't want to drink?"

"There is no help for it," Charles replied, "You know that, Harry. You have heard the story of my own turning, know the lengths that I, and many others, have gone to, to try and avoid this. If you do not drink blood, you will die in the next couple of months. There is nothing anyone can do for you. That is why it is a crime to change someone before they are ready to be Turned, especially someone as young as you."

Harry nodded. He did know. He had been trying to avoid it, because while it didn't seem utterly repulsive, it didn't seem particularly attractive either. And he did not want to die – anything had to better than that. "I know I must drink," he assured Charles, who looked worried by Harry's attempt to deny what would be one of the main factors in his continued existence. "I wish it were not the case, but there is no help for it."

Charles nodded. "I'm so sorry." For a moment, they were silent then Charles went back to explaining what would be different for Harry now that he was partly vampire. "You will live a little longer than others of your kind. If your life is not ended abruptly, old age should not take you for another five hundred years," Charles added, hoping to point out more good sides than bad.

Harry shook his head, "I do not blame you Charles," he repeated, "I know you are trying to avoid the subject of my drinking blood, but it is something that we must address now. I am obviously too weak to hunt now, and the thought of invading someone's home to drink from them seems … wrong, somehow."

"Lucy and Wilfred, I'm sure, will be more than happy to help you out there. You will need to drink only a very small amount of blood, and I'm sure that they will be able to provide that much for you. I cannot feed on only them because I must feed more often and must take more than you would. But for your purposes, I believe that they will be perfect. They would not be doing anything other than extending to you a service which they already award me."

"I don't want to," Harry said immediately, even though he knew that he would end up doing so anyway, because he did not want to die.

"You must," Charles said evenly.

"I know," Harry assured him. Therewas a soft knock on the door, and Lucy looked in.

"I hope I'm not distracting you, Master Charles, but you have guests arriving in an hour's time," she told him. Guests, Harry wondered … what guests were there? Vampires, probably.

"You aren't," Charles assured. "Please come in."

Lucy was only too happy to do so, coming straight in and giving Harry a warm hug. Then she stepped back and looked at him, seeing a strangely hungry look in his eyes, which seemed slightly reflective in the soft light that managed to find its way through the curtains.

The moment Lucy had entered the room Harry had been terrifyingly aware of her; he could hear her heartbeat, hear the sound of her blood running through her veins and it made him _hungry_. He felt his canines lengthening and sharpening. When she hugged him it was all he could do not to bite her, and she seemed to realize this, because she stepped back slightly.

"Poor child," Lucy sympathized. "You'll need to take blood now, if you don't want to die… you may take some of mine, I give it to you freely."

At that moment all of Harry's control vanished. Later, he would remember looking at Lucy, who had become some combination of sister and mother to him since he had arrived in Potter Manor, but he didn't see that, he only saw _food_.

Her offer tore through his starved mind, the thought of food was almost too tempting to question, but the realisation that she was offering, that she was need to offer, was distantly dirty, revolting. But she was holding out her wrist, hovering just in front of his mouth, the veins there pulsing with blood, an offering that he did not have the willpower to refuse.

Guided by instincts that he didn't fully understand, and had never had before, Harry lowered his mouth to her wrist, fangs tingling slightly in anticipation. His two fangs gently pierced the skin, seeking blood, which washed into his mouth, and he swallowed convulsively. A part of mind told him he should be repulsed by what was doing, but it just felt too good, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but relief at his hunger being fulfilled. It was the first proper emotion he had felt since awakening; _satisfaction_.

His body, so weak when he had first awoken, was taking strength from the blood that was flowing from Lucy into him, and he reveled in that strength. His feeling of hunger abated as the blood washed down his throat, and then, slowly, he released her arm, his canine fangs shortening again into normal teeth.

And he realised what he had done. He had drunk the blood of a woman he considered his family, and he had enjoyed it. He could still feel faint traces of enjoyment that lingered with the satisfaction, and he found it slightly disturbing on a fundamental level. "I'm sorry," he said to Lucy, and winced internally at the lack of feeling in the words.

Lucy looked at him in sympathy. "I'll leave you two to it," she said, then looked at Harry, "Remember, I gave you permission," she added to him, hugging him gently around the shoulders before leaving the room.

Charles leant over and embraced Harry, who hugged him back tightly, burying his head against Charles's chest, needing the reassurance of someone who understood him. He felt like he should cry with the emotions that should be filling him, but instead, he just relaxed in the comfort, and the emotions faded.

"It'll be ok Harry. Here you are surrounded by those who understand you, who love you. Lucy and Wilfred are more than used to donating their blood to me, and they will be just as happy to help you. You have nothing to be ashamed of here. It will be a lot easier for you than it was for me."

"How so?" Harry asked, as Charles released him, leaning back against the pillows. They had never really talked that much about the way vampires had behaved before they had come up with laws to govern their lives. Harry knew only that these laws existed, and that they hadn't always existed. Mostly they had talked about all of the legends about vampires, as Harry questioned which ones had actually been true. Very few, as it turned out.

"In my time, vampires were feared beyond measure, and with good reason. Vampires were violent, monstrous; they had no morals and existed to do what they willed. I was one of a select few that _did_ have morals, and that made it hard for me. I had no one willing to let me feed upon them – the idea would have been unthinkable to the people of my time. I had to survive as best I could, running from anywhere where I might have once had friends, so that there was no chance of ever attacking someone I cared about.

"They were hard times, but eventually I found those who could help me. A small group of vampires who, like me, did not follow the general pattern of doing what we pleased in the world. That group decided that things had to change, that vampire society couldn't go on the way that it had been.

"Together, we did the unthinkable – we hunted down our brethren and killed them. Those who had no morals had be destroyed for the good of the world. People _hated_ the vampires, and I certainly couldn't hold it against them. There were more vampire hunters in that time than there were at any other point in history. That was only a few hundred years after vampires first came into existence.

"The Hunters were wiping us out, the good vampires along with the bad. They would not stop until the killing did, and the killing would not stop until every one of those old vampires was dead. While we killed off those who would never submit to any kind of boundaries, we began asking those we thought might accept if they would like to join us, and leave the old ways behind them.

"And in that way, we began building the present day society of vampires. For awhile, I think, humans believed that we had been wiped out, because the killings had come to an end, and the hunters vanished as if they had never been. But eventually, of course, they realised that we were still out there.

"My friends and I became the Vampire Council, and it was us who saw that every vampire obeyed the laws that we had passed to try and make ourselves less feared, although we always will be to some extent. There are always mistakes, and some who become vampires never should have been turned. They are dealt with by whoever finds them first – us, or the Hunters. Eventually, we made connections with the Ministry of Magic and worked out an agreement about magical vampire hunters, but ties were never strong.

"But still, the society of vampires is a more welcoming place now than it was when I was brought into it."

"Cool," Harry said, eyes wide. "So you're one of the top vampires?"

"I was once, although I left the Council to be run by others a long time ago now," Charles smiled at him, "Although I am proud to consider myself one of the saviours of our race, one of the pioneers of our changed society, I am the only left of our original group."

Harry grinned back. Already he felt a little better. Although the thought of drinking blood vaguely disgusted him, he knew that as long as he never drank without permission, he would be able to live with himself. Most vampires needed to hunt, because they could not find enough blood from those willing to help them every time they needed it.

He was one of the lucky ones, he only had to drink on infrequent occasions, and he knew that on those occasions, all he had to do was ask either Lucy or Wilfred and he would receive what he needed. It would be easy enough to keep his slight vampiric traits hidden, because his body wasn't _lots_ stronger than it had been, and he did not have skin as sensitive as the other vampires did. The _other_ vampires–he was one of them now.

Now he really belonged here, he supposed. "I think it's about time you got up, Harry," Charles said softly, "Have a shower, get dressed and come meet me in the library, there are more things that you need to know, now that you have become one of us." Harry nodded, and Charles left.

When he stood up, Harry could feel the difference in his body. The weakness from when he had woken up had passed completely, he felt stronger and more awake than he ever remembered being in his life. The level of fitness he had attained through Tae-Kwon-Doe and flying this summer suddenly seemed like a joke to him; he could feel the power in his body and knew that if he wanted to, he could run for miles or work out all day and not feel the strain.

His whole body was also tingling with energy, he was highly tempted to ignore Charles's request to go to the library and instead go out flying or practice Tae-Kwon-Do, but at the same time he could still feel the evil chill of the room he had been held in, it was still lingering just under his skin.

He showered thoroughly, scrubbing his skin until it was bright red in protest, trying desperate to cleanse the evil from his person. The scalding water and soap were not strong enough to rid him of the evil entirely, so when he dressed and left the bathroom he didn't feel _quite_ clean.

When he reached the library, Charles was pacing near the door, and he offered a tense smile when Harry stepped through. "Come, I need to show you a part of the library you haven't been to before," he said, beckoning. Harry followed him through the shelves right the far back of the library.

Charles eventually stopped in front of the shelves that lined the back of the library and removed a group of the books on one of them. He pulled Harry slightly closer and pressed his hand against the back of the shelf. The shelf rotated immediately, and Harry looked around at the room in which they had arrived.

The room was very dark, but Harry found that he could see perfectly. It was almost completely bare, save for pedestal in the exact centre, over which a blood red stone was resting in mid air, pulsing brightly every second or so.

"What's _that_?" Harry asked, feeling somehow drawn to it, and stepping forward a pace and half-unconsciously lifting his hand toward it.

"_That_ is my Blood Stone," Charles replied, "Or rather, _one_ of my Blood Stones, because I have two. Blood Stones are used to store a vampire's power in some ways. This is my other one," Charles reached into a pocket and drew out a ring, on it was a small red stone, which, like the larger one in front of Harry, seemed to pulse gently. Harry remembered having seen it before, when Charles was actually wearing it, although it hadn't pulsed then. He had never paid it much heed before, but now it sang to him.

"When you drink blood, it replenishes your cells and keeps them strong. It also gives you a lot of excess energy and power. In the past, vampires would simply exercise a lot and cast powerful spells to work off all the extra energy, but that meant that they used up the power of blood they had taken faster, and needed more.

"Then one of our brethren, well before my time, discovered the Blood Stones. They can draw out most of the excess energy, and as long as you keep them close, they will feed that power slowly back you as yours begins to wane. The pulse becomes slower as the need for new blood becomes stronger, and when there is a minute long gap between pulses, you need to replenish your energy. It means that we do not have to feed quite so often. Also, in the case of an emergency, a vampire can call on the Blood Stone's power and use it to work Blood Magic, which strengthens his own power. You should not use it for that except in cases of dire emergency, however."

"So I need one of these?" Harry asked.

"You do," Charles replied, "And it is the duty of the vampire who turned you, in this case me, to provide you with one." He walked over to the hovering Blood Stone and rested his hands upon it for a moment. Suddenly the surface rippled, as if it had turned to water, and a small drop separated from it, before it returned to solid stone again.

Charles drew for his pocket a thin gold chain with a golden jump ring, which he carefully slipped through a small hole in the top of the new stone, then treaded both onto the chain, murmuring something soft under his breath, and then handed it to Harry. "Wear that always. It's charmed to never get lost, or break, and if anyone ever tries to take it from you, it will give them a scorching they'll never forget," he explained.

Harry took it and fastened it deftly around his neck. It hung low, and he tucked it beneath his shirt, hiding it from view. Immediately he felt some of that heady energy drain away, as the stone shone brighter and pulsed rapidly. Harry and Charles looked at each other and smiled. "You are bound to me now, Harry, in ties that go beyond ordinary blood family. I Turned you; that is another tie between us, and I gave you a Blood Stone, which cements that tie.

"If there was ever any doubt that you were unsuitable to be my ward, or me to be your guardian, that is gone now. We belong together."

Harry liked that, _we belong together_. Now he really _did_ belong here, and that was something that he had wanted all of his life.

Now he had found it, and he was satisfied.

They left the room, and Charles replaced the books that he had taken from the shelf, before leading Harry to another part of the library, one that he hadn't noticed before, and taking down a thin, black hard cover book and handing it to his ward. There was no writing on it anywhere that Harry could see, but when he flipped it open, there were words written across the page in a firm hand.

"This is a book that all vampires must read. It tells you everything there is to know about us," Charles told him. "It will explain your powers and everything else. There are more parts to that book than you could imagine, and each of them will come and go at some point while you read it, depending on your circumstances and what you need to know."

"Thank you," Harry smiled, "I'll read it very soon."

"It's evening now, and you might want to go and out and have a fly, I'm sure you've missed the experience," Charles remarked. "There are some vampire friends of mine coming tonight, and I would like to talk to them before they meet you."

"You've never introduced me to them before," Harry pointed out. Charles had had several vampire visitors before now, and always before Harry had been instructed to remain in his room, or elsewhere in the house.

"You were not part vampire then," Charles said, sounding slightly tense. "You must be presented to the Council now, and they must judge if I acted wrongly when I turned you."

"You won't get in trouble for that will you? You saved my life!"

"I broke the law. They will be the judge of whether my cause was just, and if they feel that I disobeyed the law in its essence as well as its letter then they will punish me as they see fit."

Harry frowned, "I hope you don't get in trouble," he said. "You did the right thing."

"I certainly hope that they agree with you on that," Charles said, giving another tense smile. "I must go and prepare for their arrival now. I will call you when they are ready to speak to you; try not to fly too far."

Harry nodded and returned to his room. He considered flying for a moment, but then decided against it. He didn't want to keep Charles or the other vampires waiting if they called while he was still in the air. He considered the clothes he was wearing – jeans and a tshirt – and decided it might be a better idea to dress more formally.

Once he was dressed to his own satisfaction he sprawled across the bed and petted Wraith absently as he picked up the book he'd been reading about Dark Arts. It was less concentrated on the defence against them, but Charles had suggested it would be a good idea for him to have a better idea of what he was up against.

It was almost an hour later when Charles knocked on the door. "Come with me," he said tersley, "Our guests will meet with you now."

"What did they think?" Harry asked, following Charles out of the room.

"They are reserving their opinion until they have spoken with you. They are members of the Vampire Council and as such the greatest authority in your life at present, I suggest you treat them with utmost respect."

"I would anyway Charles, they _are_ guests in our home," Harry pointed out. Charles had also been giving him lessons in social etiquette, something which Harry had had absolutely no understanding of before arriving in Potter Manor.

"Of course you would," Charles nodded, pausing for a moment and taking a deep breath to calm himself. "My apologies Harry; this whole situation has made me tenser than I would like."

Harry simply nodded and decided it would probably be better not to speak. Charles led him to the formal dining room on the second floor for the meeting. Charles paused by the door before opening it. "They wish to speak with you alone to begin with," he said quietly and Harry nodded, took a deep breath and opened the door to walk in.

The main dining room was huge; not quite as large as the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but fairly close. Harry hadn't spent a lot of time inside the room before, it always made him feel extremely insignificant. He had always thought it was the type of room you would only like to be in with a crowd.

The three people who were waiting for him there were by no means intimidated; they seemed to almost fill the room with their presence, and Harry felt very dwarfed. He realized that he knew these three were old – not as old as Charles, but old – that they had all fed recently and that they had huge amounts of power at their disposal. He was very aware of why they had been chosen to sit on the Council.

They were all seated on the far side of the table, and a gesture from one of them indicated he should sit opposite them. He slipped silently into the chair, and gazed across the table at them. He truly felt like a child in their presence and he wished that Charles was there with him.

"It is a pleasure to meet the descendant of one of our founding fathers," one of the males said softly. "Our greetings to you, Harry Potter; my name is Roberto, my companions are Julia and Anne-Marie," he gestured slightly to either side of him, and each woman nodded slightly as he said her name.

"It is an honour to meet you," Harry said politely, "I welcome you to my ancestral home."

"You are more well-spoken than we had believe," Julia took over speaking. "Charles has been teaching you?"

Harry inclined his head slightly at the almost-insult. "Indeed. My Sire has made a point of improving any and all areas of my education that he found lacking. This summer has been an education."

"You have enjoyed it?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Immensely. Charles has provided the happiest home I have ever known," Harry said firmly, pushing aside the feeling that there was not enough fervor in his tone.

"Your previous guardians did not have a happy household?"

"Not as far as I was concerned; I was nothing more than a freak and a burden to them. I am sure that they were happy to see the back of me when Charles suggested I come here."

Glances passed between the Councilors at that, but they didn't push for more information. "We have here a very … unusual situation, Harry Potter," Anne-Marie said eventually. "You are only fifteen years of age, and by the laws that he helped set in motion, Charles was in the wrong when he began the process of Turning you."

"Charles saved my life," Harry told them shortly. "Had he not acted as he did when he did, I would be dead, to all intents and purposes, my body nothing more than a puppet of Lord Voldemort's. Living with Charles has given me something of an understanding of vampire life, and I was very intrigued by it all. Had I been awake, I would have asked Charles to Turn me."

Again, the looks passed between the vampires. "We will reserve our judgment for the moment," Anne-Marie announced. "At present, you may consider that we have given our approval, but we wish to wait and see how well you fit in to our society."

"Charles won't get in trouble though?"

"Not yet," Anne-Marie assured him. As if at some pre-arranged signal, Charles opened the door and walked into the room and stood behind Harry with a hand on his shoulder.

"Councilors, may I present to you Harry Potter, a new vampire I have sired," Charles said formally, and Harry instinctively knew that he was to remain silent.

"As a representative of the Council, I am pleased to welcome Harry Potter to our ranks as a new vampire. We, the Council, will protect you as best we can from Vampire Hunters and speak on your behalf at the Ministry of Magic. As a member of our society you will respect and uphold our laws. Should you disregard our authority our judgment will be swift and final," Anne-Marie said.

"As a representative of the Council, I am pleased to welcome Harry Potter to our ranks," Roberto said quietly, and Julia echoed his words.

"As Harry Potter's Sire I, Charles Potter, will teach him our ways and our laws. I will provide him with everything he needs until he is ready to make his own way in the world. Should he break our law through ignorance, I accept that this will be the fault of my teachings, and that I will be punished in his stead," Charles continued with the ritual.

"Harry Potter, Charles has offered to teach you our ways and our laws; are you satisfied that he will do so in the proper fashion? If you are not, speak now and we will find another."

"I am satisfied," Harry confirmed.

A round of seated bows completed the ritual. "You may remain here for our discussion with Charles if you wish," Anne-Marie offered, "But as your Sire he will speak for you until you are judged knowledgeable in our customs enough to speak on your own behalf."

A quick glance at Charles confirmed to Harry that the decision was up to him. "If it pleases the council and my Sire, I will remain," he said, the formal words seeming somehow appropriate to the occasion.

"A matter of great importance has come before the Council, and though you are no longer a part of it Charles, as one of the Founders we would appreciate any opinion you have on the matter."

"My council is always at your disposal of course," Charles responded, falling back into ritual. "What is the matter that has been raised?"

The wizard who calls himself Lord Voldemort has approached us and suggested an alliance."

Harry shifted slightly but held his silence. As much as he wanted to speak, he knew it wasn't his place. He caught the glance that Charles sent his direction, also warning him to remain silent.

"What does he offer us in this alliance?"

"Freedom," Anne-Marie replied. "The Ministry of Magic has always smiled and told us they are our friends, but they have also always silently endorsed Vampire Hunters – the killing of a vampire has a maximum sentence of two years in Azkaban. He also promises us mutual aid, available upon request, something the Ministry has never offered and never will. He has promised us places of power in his new world, and respect from those who follow him."

"What sort of freedoms does he offer, or is it just a generic word?" enquired.

"The freedom to feed is the main one. We have not killed in centuries but if it was known that we had fed somewhere, Muggles and wizards alike would be up in arms and wanting us to be hunted down. Voldemort has promised that we will be free from any persecution should we feed.

"Some of the younger ones grow restless now – they were not alive for the vampire hunts of our early days, they do not understand that as bad as things are now, they were once much worse. After a century or two of hiding from the world, of living apart, of being afraid to feed … morals start to fade."

"It is a tempting offer," Charles agreed, much to Harry's shock. "We have hidden in the dark for a very long time, and the Ministry is making things harder and harder for us to function in society. As the offer stands, I would be tempted to throw my support behind it … however, my new ward has had a lot more experience with Voldemort than most, and I think perhaps he would be able to give you some further insights."

"We aware of Harry's previous encounters with Lord Voldemort, their enmity is legendary," Anne-Marie admitted. "What would you say in regards to this proposal Harry?"

"If you joined Voldemort," Harry said softly, "It would not be the _alliance_ that he claims. An alliance is between equals, and Voldemort does not believe that he _has_ equals; there is only himself, and those who are lesser than he is. He doesn't want alliance, he wants servitude."

"As Anne-Marie said, your enmity with the Dark Lord is legendary," Roberto spoke suddenly. "You would speak against him regardless of the truth."

"He is my enemy, yes," Harry agreed, "And as his enemy I see what his power-hungry followers will not admit, and the sides he does not show to those he is wooing. I was at his re-birthing ceremony; I saw how he treated his followers there. In one breath he called them his family, the next he was torturing them for not doing more to find him.

"I have a connection to him through my scar, and I have seen him torture his followers with the Crucio curse for failing to follow his orders to the letter. Albus Dumbledore once said something that I believe sums Voldemort up to perfection: He shows as much mercy to his followers as he does to enemies – none. He is a sadistic, power hungry and completely insane animal."

"And what do you think would happen if the Council were to accept his alliance?" Charles prompted softly.

"Once you had agreed to join him, for a little while things would be good. He would let you feed on his prisoners, or on his followers if he had nothing else available. He would send teams of Death Eaters after known vampire hunters and he would ask very little from you.

"Then, when he had something to hold over you – and he _will_ find something – he would have you raiding with his Death Eaters, killing those he ordered you to, and torturing our people as readily as he does his own. He would use you to inspire terror in his enemies, and when you had outlived your usefulness to him, he would dispose of you before you could become a threat."

"And what would you say to that, Charles?"

"I remember Voldemort's last reign of terror. I have always stayed closer to society than most of our kind," Charles said, "It was a slaughter, and worse yet it was meaningless. He arbitrarily decided that Muggles and anyone who was not 'purely' magical should die. He killed anyone who sympathized with them, and anyone who stood against him in any little way. As Harry said, he is an animal."

The Councilors looked between themselves for a long moment. "Charles, Harry, please allow us to speak in private," Anne-Marie said after a long silence.

Harry and Charles stepped out into the hall to wait. "What do you think will happen?" Harry asked his friend and mentor.

"I could not say," Charles responded softly. "The Council will do what it thinks best for our people, and the truth is the Ministry has never done much beyond alienating us. It is fairly likely that they will chose to side with Voldemort."

"But …"

"I know it seems unfathomable to you, but Voldemort has a lot of support among our kind now. Many of us – and not just the younglings – are increasingly angry at the Ministry, at wizards in general, and wouldn't object to taking them down a peg or three. I promise you though, if the Council chooses to follow Voldemort, I will declare myself Outlaw rather than remain as a part of our society. I will keep you safe from him."

"I would not want you to lose your place-"

"I would not want a place in that society," Charles interrupted firmly, and Harry nodded slightly. They spent the rest of their wait in silence, both silently hoping that the vampires would choose to listen to Harry's words. Finally, they were called back to the room, and again took their seats in front of the Councilors.

"We have one further question for you, before we return to the Council," Roberto said calmly, looking straight at Harry.

"What is your question?"

"The Dark Lord claims he will grant us equality – we have no sure way of knowing whether he will come through with this promise or not, and so our question is this: what would _you_ offer us to side against him, Harry Potter?"

* * *

Chapter edited 26 May 2008

Author Note:

And that's chapter 7 done! I hope that you all enjoyed reading it!

I know a few people are wondering why I am bothering with a re-write when it is so similar to the original story, just flows better. The answer is simple: it's from when Harry goes to Hogwarts that I mostly wanted to change the direction of the story. While I'm doing that, I figured that I might as well go through and make the earlier chapters flow better - thanks to everyone who let me know that I've succeeded in doing that! - and refamiliarize myself with the story this way.

The end of the summer holidays will be a little different, and Hogarts will be completely different, although Sebastian will still make his appearance! It was the direction the original took once it reached the end of summer that frustrated me, so that's where the rewrite will take a different route, and hopefully allow me to remain inspired and finish this story!

I hope that this has cleared up a few questions people had regarding the necessity for the rewrite.

Thank you again for reading, and please review!

WolfMoon


	8. Choices

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Thanks: To my beta, as always, and to everyone who has reviewed! Also, thanks to everyone who pointed out my miss-spelling of _Legilimency_. I have corrected this error.

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Eight: Choices

"_What would _you_ offer us, Harry Potter?_"

Robert's words echoed in Harry's head, as his mind went blank. What could _he_, alone, offer the vampires? As far as he could see, nothing … he was only one sixteen year old boy, there was no way he could speak for the Wizarding world on something as important as this.

"_I_ can offer you very little," Harry said honestly, "I have only my own voice, and I cannot speak for the rest of the Wizarding world. But if you don't join Voldemort, you have _my_ alliance, and my friendship. And with me, an alliance is what you will get. Voldemort will be defeated, more easily if you help me.

"I do not request that you help the rest of the Wizarding world, given that they have treated you badly in the past. I have some amount of fame, as you are all aware, and now I am more than sympathetic to vampires, being one of you! I do not ask that you join the Wizarding world, only that you join _me_ against Voldemort. When he is gone, and the wizards see how you aided me, I promise that I will do everything within my power to make changes for you, in legislation and in popular opinion.

"I will not promise you anything solid, because I do not know that I will be able to keep such promises, but I will promise you my aid in anything I can give it in," Harry added, looking around at them. "You have only to ask, and I will do my best to deliver."

"Well spoken," Charles murmured in an aside to Harry, and then turned his attention back to the Vampires. "Did Voldemort, when he came to you, ever admit that it was possible he could be defeated? If he is, then aiding him will get you in more trouble than you are in already. If you aid Harry, together we can defeat Voldemort, and as he said, it will put us in better standing.

"Whatever the decision of the Council is, know this. _I_ side with Harry, and if that means siding against the council, then so be it."

Harry turned and smiled at his Sire, relieved beyond measure to have his support, and Charles's words meant more to Harry than almost anything he had ever heard in his life before now. "I'm sure we will hear the Council's decision soon enough, till then, I do not believe that there is anything else that we need to discuss," Charles added.

"We will convey your words to the council," Anne-Marie said firmly. "I'm sure you will be one of the first to hear when the decision is made. We thank you for your input on this issue."

"Farewell," Charles said mildly, standing to show the vampires to the door. Harry let his Sire take care of the elaborate traditions regarding the departure of guests, and went to their chess room to wait, knowing that Charles would join him there when the formalities were done.

It took nearly half an hour for Charles to meet him in the chess room, but he was accompanied by Lucy and a large meal. "How are you holding up?" Lucy asked.

"Fine," Harry replied absently, his thoughts focused on the conversation he anticipated having with Charles. He didn't notice her slightly disappointed look at not getting more information, nor did he pay attention to her departure, instead, he looked at Charles, wondering what his Sire would say.

"I think they will agree," Charles said softly. "You spoke well, and chose your words with care."

"Thanks," Harry said, looking down in embarrassment. "I only said what was in my heart – I _couldn't_ let them side with Voldemort!"

Charles laughed, "Always say what is in your heart, Harry," he advised. "It will stop you becoming a politician who lies as easily as he breathes. If you speak your heart, you will appeal to hearts, and that will give you power that comes only from the good."

"I'm not _going_ to be a politician," Harry replied, "I wouldn't want to turn out like Fudge. It's too easy to become corrupt, history has proven that."

"All celebrities are politicians, whether they want to be or not," Charles informed him. "Most often they are controlled by others, often manipulated into doing or endorsing things they never wanted to without even realizing it. You have power, whether you want it or not, and I would strongly suggesting making use of it yourself before someone uses it on your behalf."

Harry had been reading the newspaper far too much over the holidays to deny the power he had. The _Daily Prophet_ was once again printing him as the 'Golden Boy' of the magical world, conveniently ignoring everything they had said about him the previous year. He knew that the general populace thought of him as the only one who could defeat Voldemort – and of course he also knew that they were right.

"Charles, there's something I need to tell you," Harry paused for a moment while Charles looked at him expectantly. "You know all those articles talking about me being the Chosen One, the one prophesized to defeat Voldemort that we've been laughing at all summer?"

He waited for Charles to nod before continuing, "They're kind of true. There was a prophecy made about us - me and Voldemort, that is - before I was born. It was made to Dumbledore, and a Death Eater overheard the first half of it and reported it to Voldemort. It was because of what he had heard of the prophecy that Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me."

"What does the prophecy say?"

"Basically, it says _'the one with the power to vanquish to the dark lord approaches, born as the seventh month dies, and the dark lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have a power the dark lord knows not. And either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives'_. I think there might have been a few more words, but that was all the important ones," Harry said quietly.

"I wondered if there was some truth in those stories," Charles said pensively. "It makes a lot of things make more sense. It was because of the prophecy that you went to the Department of Mysteries then?"

"It was, but I didn't know about it until I got there. Voldemort wanted me to get it for him," Harry explained. "He sent me a vision showing Sirius being held there, so I went to try and rescue him, but it was a trap, as you know. The actual prophecy was broken, but Dumbledore showed me his memory of hearing it afterwards."

"That must have been … harsh," Charles murmured, and Harry could tell his Sire's mind was not entirely present. He recognized the look as the one that Charles wore when he found out a new piece of information and was sifting through his memory to see where it fit in to everything.

After awhile, he shook his head slightly and smiled at Harry, "My apologies, I got … lost for a moment there," he remarked. "This prophecy means you have even more power, and even more need to use it than I had thought."

"I don't want that power," Harry reminded him.

"Harry, Voldemort has a lot of people in the Ministry and he's trying to take over. If you're going to fight him then you need to be able to combat the hold he's going to try and make on the magical world. You have to keep him from playing the same games he did last time."

"What games did he play last time?" Harry asked curiously. He had heard a bit about Voldemort's first rise to power, but mostly people didn't like to talk about it.

"He and his Death Eaters would go out on their little killing sprees, and then his people in the Ministry would do things that seemed to be combating him to gain more power in the Ministry, until they were often in very high up positions and start changing things slowly to gain him more power, to make Voldemort's voice heard."

"And you think I could stop some of that?"

"If you played your cards right and didn't end up as a Ministerial pawn. Also, remember that you promised to speak up for the vampires – if you want to make yourself heard on a controversial issue then you will need to have a far greater political support base than you do."

Harry frowned, realizing the truth in Charles' words. He _would_ need to have more of a say in the political world if he was going to come through with his promise to the vampires, and it really wasn't a promise he wanted to back down on.

"And I guess if I had more political standing it would be harder for the papers to change their mind about me every other day," he continued his thoughts out loud.

"Indeed. At present you are a little too much of an unknown factor, so people can make you into whatever they want. Once they get to know you, their opinions become cemented."

"How do you think I should go about getting a political voice?" Harry asked, after thinking about it for a little while longer.

"Approach the Ministry and start making yourself known to the Department Heads and the upper people in the Ministry, you should definitely try and speak with as many of the Aurors as possible to try and win their support for your cause, think about doing some interviews with the _Daily Prophet_," Charles rattled off immediately.

"You've been waiting for the right time to bring this up haven't you," Harry accused his Sire with a smile.

"Indeed I have. The Potters were once a very well known name in the magical community, and while _your_ name is still widely known ours has fallen off the charts a lot since your father's death," Charles admitted. "I would like to see the family's reputation rebuilt."

"Everyone is looking for me at the moment though," Harry pointed out, "I can hardly go to the Ministry if they're going to immediately try and put me back with my aunt and uncle."

"Then perhaps you could begin by sending some letters," Charles suggested. "Introduce yourself and tell the Ministry what you told Dumbledore: that you are safe and well and have no intention of returning to your other relatives. And remember that as soon as you turn sixteen, they cannot force you to return to Privet Drive."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "That's true. It's a shame Fudge is such an idiot, I don't really want to condone his actions."

"About that," Charles said, grinning, "While you were unconscious Fudge finally responded to the pressure being put on him and resigned as Minister. He's been replaced by a man named Rufus Scrimegour, who was in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He has also put out requests to hear from you, and has vowed to continue the search until you are found."

"Then I guess I'll write him a letter so that he can consider me to be found already," Harry remarked. "Would you read through it when I'm done?"

"Of course," Charles nodded.

It took them several tries, but eventually they got a letter that they were both happy with.

_Dear Minister Scrimgour,_

_First, please allow me to congratulate you on your recent promotion to the position of Minister of Magic. I sincerely hope you will be better suited to the position than your predecessor and that you will take every possible step toward limiting Voldemort's return to true power._

_I am aware of the various attempts that you, your predecessor and Albus Dumbledore have been making to find me over the summer. I have already informed Dumbledore – to no effect – that I left my relatives of my own accord and have no intention of returning. As long as I know that I will be forcibly returned there should I make my current location known, I will remain out of sight. I would ask that you tell the Aurors searching for me to stand down; their attention would be better placed elsewhere, namely in combating the Death Eaters._

_I will not take up any more of your valuable time now, but I will also take the opportunity to express my desire for a closer relationship with the Ministry than I have had in the past. I believe I can be of assistance in the fight against Voldemort that we are now engaging in once again._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry J. Potter_

_P.S. My location is heavily warded; no attempt to follow this owl will work. Also, you will not be able to send any mail directly to my current address without her co-operation._

"That should be fine for an initial contact," Charles decided once Harry had written it out in his best penmanship. "That was not exactly what I had thought to discuss first with you this evening."

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to talk to you some more about vampires," Charles said. "Have you started reading that book yet?"

"No, I haven't had much time," Harry reminded him.

Charles waved it off, "Some of what I say now might be covered in there, but if you already know it, it might not. I want to talk about some of the traits vampires have and how they might affect you, and most especially how you could go about hiding them when you leave the Manor."

"I'll be able to go back to Hogwarts then?" Harry enquired.

"If you still want to, of course," Charles reassured him. "The differences between you and a full human will be fairly easily concealed. You _do_ still want to go, don't you?"

"I think it would be a good idea. Like you said, I have to become more powerful in the magical world and that won't happen if I'm hiding here. I'm expected to go to school and so I should, otherwise people will get the impression that I feel the rules don't apply to me," Harry said.

"And of course you'll want to see your friends," Charles added, frowning slightly.

"Well yeah, I guess," Harry said, frowning himself. He hadn't given a thought to his friends since he had woken up. When Charles gave him a look demanding more on the subject he shrugged slightly, "Well I don't know how they'll react to this, all the secrets this summer and what will happen when I tell them I'm half-vampire," he said.

"We will have to consider what you will tell people about the summer – it would be better to have a ready-made lie to take with you than to try and come up with something on the spot when people start to question you."

"The Slytherin approach," Harry agreed. "We were talking about vampire traits though?"

Charles gave him another half-thoughtful glance then continued from where had been distracted before. "Well, to begin with there are your eyes: as you've probably noticed, they have been repaired and you should be able to see fine without your glasses."

"Yeah I had noticed that," Harry said, recalling that when he had tried to put his glasses on after his bath earlier, they had given him a headache and made the world blurry.

"Although you can now see perfectly well, your eyes will be much more sensitive to the light. I would suggest that we get you some contact lenses that act like sunglasses. They will protect your eyes from the light, and make sure that no one notices that your eyes get reflective in the dark."

"And provide a handy alibi for why I don't need to wear glasses any more," Harry caught on immediately. "That sounds great! I used to want contacts really badly but the Dursley's certainly wouldn't have got them for me. Once I had money I also had an entire new world to explore and I kind of forgot about Muggle technology."

"It's a mistake most wizards make," Charles agreed, "I suggest you try to rectify that. Muggle technology can do a lot of things magic can't, or do things more efficiently. Electricity and telephones are prime examples. It's a shame the pureblood maniacs are a lost cause in regards to Muggles being anything more than intelligent animals."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Something else I could perhaps try to work on … although I'll have my work cut out for me with the vampires. I might leave Muggles to the other Muggleborn witches and wizards out there."

"Don't try to bite off more than you can chew," Charles agreed. "The other major thing you will need to watch out for is that you are now stronger, faster and more agile than the average human being. You could do some serious damage without even realizing it."

"I'm not really one for getting into fights, mostly just trying to stop Ron from killing Malfoy."

"You would do well to watch yourself a little in Quidditch though. You aren't a Beater or a Chaser so your newfound strength shouldn't come into it too much, and you are known to be an exceptional flyer, so faster reflexes probably won't be too highly noted.

"I think we may need to take you out of Tae-Kwon-Do lessons though. You could too easily do a great deal of damage to your sparring partners. You should know enough now to be able to practice reasonably efficiently on your own."

"And you know something about the art as well, we could spar together," Harry pointed out, and Charles nodded in agreement.

"Those were the main things. I will make an appointment at the Optometrist for you tomorrow and we can organize those contacts," Charles said decisively. "We might want to get you a few pairs of sunglasses as well; you might want both when you are out in direct sunlight."

Their discussion done, Harry and Charles settled in to play chess for a couple of hours.

* * *

After chess Harry returned to his room and picked up the small book on vampires that Charles had given him. He flipped open to the first page and was immediately absorbed by the text.

_The vampires were created by a Dark Wizard, with the intention of taking over the world with a group of willing, fearsome servants. Vampires were made to drink blood, the blood of his enemies. He gave them the ability to make others like them, so that his army would continually grow._

_But the spell went wrong, and when the first vampires were born, they were not loyal to him. They had their own minds, and they had no reason to remain with him. They killed him and his human servants and drank their blood, having been born hungry. Then they escaped into the world to live for themselves…_

The first chapter was all about the creation of vampires and the abilities that the nameless Dark Wizard had given them. He found out that a magical person who became a vampire would have more power and live longer than a Muggle who was Turned, and the book re-iterated that a wizard would not only keep his ability to use wizard magic, but would also get more powerful in that regard. The Dark Wizard had obviously wanted the most powerful army he could create; Muggle vampires for the foot soldiers and Magical ones for the elite forces.

The thing that interested Harry most was the allusions that the chapter made to Blood Magic; the inherent magic of the vampires. He was delighted to realize that the second chapter was a much more in-depth description of Blood Magic, and he read it very carefully.

At the end of the chapter he was left slightly disappointed. His own power with Blood Magic would be sorely limited, at least until-unless-he was ready to become a full vampire. As it was, the main difference was that Blood Magic would add itself to his wizard magic.

The upshot of that, he gathered, was that his spells would have a two-fold nature that would make them both more powerful and more difficult to block or counter, as blocking spells would only work against the wizard part. It would also make his spells more focused on intent than incantation, which he reflected would make it easier for him to learn new spells. It would also mean he would have to keep a focused mind when he was casting.

The chapter did not really touch on what a full-blooded vampire would be able to achieve with Blood Magic, and Harry took this as being part of the nature of the book; Charles had explained that it would give him the information he needed, when he needed it.

Harry set the book aside with some regret; he wanted to find out more about his new kind, but there were other things he wanted to do as well, other books he wanted to read and things other than reading that he wanted to do. He stretched luxuriously as he stood up and headed into the training room next door. First, he wanted to try some new combat spells, and then see how much things had changed by doing some Tae-Kwon-Do moves.

And once he was done in there, it would definitely be time to take a long overdue flight.

* * *

"Merlin, I can't believe how different my body feels," Harry exclaimed the next morning over breakfast. "I feel _incredible_. Stretches that were a real strain to hold last week are totally natural now, and I can tell that my movement is much more graceful now."

"A very endearing side effect to vampirism," Charles agreed, smiling over a cup of tea.

"And _flying_," Harry continued, barely listening to his Sire, "The amount of control and accuracy I have over my broom is amazing! I don't think I've ever enjoyed flying as much as I did last night!"

After breakfast, Wilfred drove Harry and Charles to town to the optometrist, who seemed slightly surprised by the request, but after doing a lot of testing came to the conclusion that shielding the light from Harry's eyes would be a good idea. "Normally we would recommend lenses that would deteriorate over time to re-adjust the eyes," the optician explained to Charles, "I think that would perhaps be a good idea."

Then he smiled and said, "I think that having permanent lenses to block at least some of the light from your son's eyes would be an excellent idea." Harry had barely caught the motion with which Charles drew his wand and performed the silent charm, but he knew immediately that it had been a memory modifier.

"Those lenses should be ready for pick up in about three days," the man told them as he escorted them to the door. "We will phone you when they arrive and you can pay for them then."

"That sounds delightful," Charles assured him and led Harry out of the shop to browse for sunglasses. Being outside even this long was beginning to give Harry a headache; Potter Mansion had a carefully dimmed interior so it was only now that he really noticed how his eyes had changed.

Sunglasses were quickly taken care of, with Harry buying a pair that were unassuming but good-looking and effective. Charles paid the money without really noticing how much it was, they left the shop. "I would suggest a trip to Mr Elsen's," Charles remarked as they left, "Having some good quality dress robes would be a good idea I think."

"Whatever you think is best," Harry assured him, and stood patiently through a series of long fittings with the tailor without complaint.

"Your body has changed already," the man said, in a faintly scolding tone. "I only fitted you a few weeks ago and you have already grown, filled out! Charles, his old wardrobe simply won't do any more, I will need to make him new things!"

"As you recommend," Charles smiled slightly. Harry considered protesting at spending a great deal more money replacing expensive clothes that they had only just bought, but one look at Charles' face was enough to convince him of the futility of such a protest, so he remained silent. At least Charles didn't insist on replacing his casual wardrobe, which could either be slightly modified or simply dealth with.

* * *

That night saw Harry sleeping fitfully. After returning from the shopping expedition, he had spent some time working on his potion brewing, which he had spent a lot of the holidays struggling to improve. If he wanted to be an Auror when he finished school then he needed to know Potions.

He was sure that he hadn't gotten the Outstanding that he would need for Snape to let him into the class this year, but he had been hopeful that he would be able to convince the Potions Master to take him on if he showed how much he had worked to improve.

Since he had started, he had come to realize that he actually quite enjoyed brewing potions, when they were ones that he found interesting and when Snape wasn't breathing down his neck all day. Now he actually found the practice vaguely soothing, and that afternoon it provided a distraction from thoughts of the evil room that Voldemort had trapped him in.

When potions began to fail at holding those thoughts at bay, Harry exhausted himself first in Tae-Kwon-Doe exercises, and other stretches, and then with flying, so that by the time he went to bed he could hardly see straight and had even worn down his vampiric stamina.

But even exhaustion didn't help him sleep, and when he woke to a cold sweat in the middle of the night, he decided that he would simply have to go to Charles.

He made his way through the silent, unlit house with no difficulties. His eyes picked up even the faintest hints of light and they were enough to let him see as well as if there was full sunlight. He came to Charles' bedroom door and knocked, but there was no answer.

Harry frowned slightly, then continued on through the house until he reached the library. "Charles?" he called as he stepped into the room.

"Harry," Charles emerged from the shelves with an air of surprise setting the books he had so far selected aside. "What are you still doing up?"

"I think we might need to talk," Harry said, slightly uncomfortable.

"Would you like to go to our room, or speak here?"

"Here is fine," Harry decided after a few moments. Their room would be more comfortable, but he didn't want to wait to talk.

"What's happened?"

"It's about what Voldemort did, what happened in that place," Harry said, squirming. He didn't even want to think about it; just remembering it made the dirty feeling he had grow stronger. Charles waited patiently for him to continue, which Harry was grateful for.

"It's like the evil of that place never really left. I feel _dirty_, but I can't wash it out. I haven't been sleeping well because I keep dreaming about it … and another thing: since I woke up, I've been feeling really detached. Like people and things I should care about don't concern me any more. When we were talking about what my friend's might think of what's happened, I just … didn't care. I know I _should_, but I don't. And I don't think that's part of becoming a vampire."

Charles sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Certainly not, Turning should have the opposite effect on a newly made vampire: you should be brimming with emotion, with hormones, you should be missing your family and friends and convincing yourself that they will accept you, somehow."

"Didn't our creator include that so that the newly Turned would seek out friends and family to slaughter or Turn them on their own account?" Harry questioned, thinking back to the first chapter of the book he had been reading.

"That is how it is supposed to work. Your emotions should be in overdrive, and I think that my Turning you is the only reason you have any connection to your emotions at all," Charles murmured, turning back to the books that he had gotten from the shelves. "I had noticed the changes in you myself and I was searching for any record of what Voldemort did to you that night. I thought it might be relevant."

"It was that place that did this, I'm sure of it," Harry agreed. "Can I help you look? I can't sleep."

"I know what it is that did this to you," Charles said with a sigh. "It's finding any real information on it that is difficult. I am not sure of its name, but it is an ancient weapon, created long before the first vampire was. It has been used by the most feared of all dark wizards for generations beyond count, although no record of its use has been made in over five hundred years now.

"No one remembers who created the thing any more; I know that it is almost impossible to locate and extremely difficult to access or control. The fact that Voldemort has discovered the key to it is … troubling to say the least. We will have to find some way of disabling it before he can use it again."

"So it can be destroyed?"

"There is a legend," Charles said slowly, "Almost a prophecy – it says that the great darkness can only be destroyed by he who has escaped its shadowy embrace. I am sorry Harry, I know you already have one prophecy hanging over you, but you are the only person to ever escape that place."

"Another thing that only I can deal with," Harry said. "So how do we do it?"

"I have no idea," Charles sighed heavily. "It will take research, power and _time_, the last of which we do not have a great deal of. Especially now that we are certain you did not escape unscathed – possibly even more important than destroying this thing is finding out what it did you and reversing it."

"And until we figure out how to destroy it, Voldemort can attack anyone with it?"

"I think it will be alright," Charles said slowly, "From what little I've found, it takes a lot of power to operate. Right now, I believe, Voldemort will be unable to do much magically, and until he recuperates and gains the amount of magic he needs again, we should be getting somewhere with it.

"Besides, the operator of the room can only attack people who they have a connection with – that's you, Albus Dumbledore and those others who have come face to face with Voldemort himself, and fought with him themselves. Very few of these people remain alive today, so there are few who are in danger. It is Albus who is in the most danger now."

Harry nodded slightly. "Dumbledore is a powerful man. Losing him would be a tremendous blow to the magical world," he remarked. "Although I am the 'Chosen One' to defeat Voldemort, Dumbledore is and always will be the head of the fight, the person that everyone looks to."

"And there it is again, that lack of connection," Charles said thoughtfully. "You don't care whether Dumbledore dies or not – you are just aware that you _should_ care. Before all this happened you would have been up in arms, first upset at having something else on your shoulders, then swearing to deal with it."

Harry's eyes gleamed faintly in the semi-dark of the library. "Oh but I do swear," he said softly, his voice filled with power and seriousness, "I swear that I will find out all I need to about this weapon and I will destroy it, and Voldemort, if it takes my last breath to do so."

A faint tingle ran down his spine and he felt as though something deep within him was highly satisfied by his promise.

Charles looked almost disturbed by his words, however. "You should be careful what you oaths you make from now on. Your innate Blood Magic can feel your honesty and belief in things, and it will bind you to a blood oath as strong as any Unbreakable Vow if it finds the situation appropriate – and it will not always _be_ appropriate."

"So should I ever change my mind about destroying Voldemort or his new weapon, my own magic will kill me?" Harry enquired.

"Yes."

"Then I will be very careful about giving my word on things. I think that in this particular situation it was both justified and safe," Harry said coolly.

"Yes, this time it was safe enough," Charles agreed. "In any case, we should concentrate on the task at hand." Harry nodded and turned to the books that Charles had left him to search though. Charles found more books and brought them to the table and sat down to read as well.

It was Charles who found something first. "Here – it's not a reference to the room specifically, but what happens to the rest of the world when it's been activated again. Basically it says that as soon as the room is activated again, its evil begins to spread.

"_The evil of that place will spread dissent, distrust and fear. It will demoralize the population, reduce them slowly to something only a step above animals; _that will be very dangerous. Voldemort does not truly control it – his followers will be affected as much as anyone else, but they at least will know what they are fighting."

"And now that we know this is happening, we can alert the Order and the Ministry," Harry said softly. "The public as well, if possible. If they know what is coming then they can fight it as well. They will not be able to fight the Death Eaters at all if they are hiding in fear."

"We can tell the Order yes, and maybe the Aurors, but not the whole Ministry and _certainly_ not the general public," Charles corrected him, and Harry looked at him in confusion, his question clearly written on his face.

"You of all people know how happy people are to discredit anything that might threaten their day-to-day lives. Most people would consider this weapon to be nothing more than a myth, and even if it is _proved_ real, you will only cause them to panic and become more susceptible."

"So the only real thing we can do to help them is to destroy the room itself," Harry said tiredly.

"It will be a challenge, but yes, that is all we can truly to do help. If the Minister, the Aurors and the Order are all made aware of the situation, perhaps they can also help us search for information that will help you to destroy it. You may be the one who has to do the actual destroying, but that doesn't mean you can't ask for help on finding out how to go about doing that."

Harry nodded. "I know. We'll figure this out, together or with the help of the Order and the Ministry. If it's been around for this long, then there must have been theories made on how to destroy it, even if there was no one who could actually do so."

They returned to their reading, but they only found one further reference that night, one that was repeated in a number of books on advanced Dark Arts. It at least gave them a name to put to what had happened to Harry.

_The legend of the Carcer de Malus, also known as the Prison of Evil, has roots that go as far back in history as we can discover. The very name has connotations of disaster. Legend tells us that only the most powerful and evil wizards can command the Prison, and even they must use a lot of energy to work the spell, which is intended to trap an enemy of that wizard within the room. Once trapped, the person will go through a process which results in the destruction of their soul, rather like the Kiss of a Dementor, however, rather than being an empty husk, the once-person will be completely under the control of the dark wizard._

_If the dark wizard is cunning, it can take a long time for the deception to be revealed. The controlled one is the perfect weapon – generally able to find out anything, go anywhere, without arousing much, if any, suspicion. Even when the deception is discovered, many times the friends of the lost one are unwilling to see to his or her destruction, believing that a cure might still be found, though none ever has._

That was all there was, and it was pretty obvious that the writer had not truly believed that the 'Carcer de Malus' was anything other than the legend he described it as. Harry sighed, nothing there, nothing at all. They each took one of the books on Dark Magic to read through, and returned to their room.

"Well, that's something I suppose," Charles said doubtfully, just as the sun was coming over the horizon. "We know that what's happened to you is similar to the Dementor's Kiss – one that hasn't fully worked."

"When you Turned me, I was rallying my remaining strength for a last stand. It may not have fully worked, but it was so close to doing so that there wasn't really a great deal of difference."

"And we can't know for sure how much damage it imparts _before_ the final destruction of the victims soul," Charles muttered, more to himself than to Harry. "I do not think that this is permanent, anyway, since the process was not completed. I'm just not sure exactly how the room works. We will eat, and then we should continue to search."

Harry nodded. They left the library and returned to their little dining room for breakfast and a few games of chess to relax themselves before they returned to their search. As they were finishing up their second game, Charles looked at him suddenly.

"Harry, have you ever heard of something called _Legilimency_?" He asked.

"Yes. Professor Snape was attempting to teach me Occlumency last year at school – I don't think he was very good at teaching it, or maybe I was just horrible at learning. Anyway, it didn't go very well. They were trying to teach me to shut out Voldemort so that I wouldn't get visions of what he was doing. Why?"

"Whatever the Carcer de Mallus did to you was a mental thing," Charles explained, "I am something of a legilimenes myself, and if you would give me permission, I would like to look into your mind and see if I can find out exactly what was done to you."

"Then let's do this," Harry said.

Charles nodded. "It's not quite that simple. Vampires have highly increased mental shields – you may not have been any good at Occlumency before, but now your shields are similar to those of a master Occlumens, except that you have no conscious control of them. You will have to _let_ me in, and do that you will have to trust me."

"You are my Sire, I trust you more than anyone else on the Earth," Harry told him flatly. "Do it."

Charles nodded, looking extremely touched by Harry's words. "_Legilimenes_," he whispered softly, looking directly into Harry's eyes.

It was very different to what he had gone through with Snape, Harry reflected distantly. He felt Charles in his mind as a cool zephyr, brushing gently up against shields he only then realized he had. Somehow he knew that he had to let Charles in, that Charles couldn't – or wouldn't – breach the barrier using force.

In his mind he found his memories of Charles, his trust for his Sire, and the shields seemed to ripple slightly. When they stabilized, Charles was inside with Harry. Harry felt a brief impression of thanks, and then Charles was exploring, delicately avoiding Harry's actual memories and thoughts, skimming over them without looking at them.

Before he knew it, Charles was out of his mind and they were blinking at each other across the chess table. They were silent for a few moments until Harry broke it, "Well?"

"There are huge … holes in your mind," Charles said, frowning slightly, "Places where things have been torn away and broken – I think those are supposed to be the links between your memories and your emotions. The emotional centers themselves are surrounded by blockages and buried very deeply in your mind."

"Do you think you can fix it?"

"Definitely," Charles nodded. "I could already see where the links were being gradually rebuilt, and there was the slightest wearing away of the blockages on your emotions. I think that with enough time, you would recover completely on your own."

"How much time would we be talking?"

"Well, probably close to a decade," Charles admitted. "Which is unacceptable, but if you could recover on your own then surely we can do something to help you recover faster. That will also take awhile, but that time would be measured in months rather than years I think."

Harry nodded. "What can I do to help?"

"I think that this might be a little beyond your abilities Harry, I'm sorry to say. I will have to research this myself. You should continue to look for anything on the Carcer de Mallus and any way you can find to destroy it, I will work on fixing _you_."

"OK, that sounds good. But before we do that, do you think there would be any way to distance myself from the evil that I'm still feeling?"

"The residue evil … I'm sure that I can find some way of blocking that …I will work on it, I think I have a very neat solution but it will involve some work and research. I will look into it – it shouldn't be anywhere near as difficult as the problem with the Carcer de Mallus."

"Let me know when you find anything won't you?" Harry requested.

"Of course," Charles nodded. "In the meantime, I think the best thing you can do is to try and do things that inspire strong emotion in you – flying for example, and anything else you can think of. Positive emotions would be best to work on, but others as well."

Harry nodded again. "I think I'll go for a quick fly and then maybe try and get some sleep," he agreed, suppressing a yawn. "Thanks for all the help."

"I'm your Sire, it is my eternal honour to help you, Harry Potter," Charles murmured as his young charge left the room, bleary eyed from lack of sleep.

* * *

Edited 21 October 2008

Question: Would you rather I used Horcruxes or ignored them?

Again, only small changes made.

WolfMoon


	9. Happy Birthday Harry!

Disclaimer: Not mine

Thanks: to my beta, also to all the people who pointed out the misspelling of Legilimency last chapter; I have corrected it now.

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Nine: Happy Birthday Harry!

The night after he and Charles had begun their search for information on the Carcer de Mallus, Harry returned to his bedroom to find Hedwig had returned from the Ministry of Magic and was bearing a rather thick letter. She hooted in weary relief when Harry removed it from her leg, and flew back to her perch to sleep.

"Sorry I've been making you work so hard girl," Harry murmured, stroking her feathers gently. She only hooted softly, as if to say she liked it better than being stuck in her cage the entire summer.

He opened the letter back and read it slowly.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_You cannot know what a huge relief it has been for me to hear from you at long last! I will of course do my best to perform to the utmost in my new position as Minister of Magic, especially in regards to Magical Law Enforcement in these troubled times._

_I have been looking over a number of the decisions my predecessor made, and the policies he enacted, especially in regards to your case. I must say I have rarely been so appalled in my life. I think it would be extremely beneficial to both our causes to meet up at some point in the near future. Out of respect for your desire for privacy, I will leave the date, time and place of that meeting up to you. Let me only say that my office is open to you at all times, and also that, if I may be so bold, your late godfather's Will is to be read on the 1__st__ of August at Gringotts. Perhaps this would be a suitable time and venue for you?_

_I have called off the Aurors search for you as per your request. It is wonderful to know that you are safe and well, and my main purpose in searching for you was to ensure that this was the case. Unlike Mr. Dumbledore I am prepared to accept your word on your status._

_The Ministry as a whole, and myself personally, would be only too delighted to accept your proposal for a closer relationship in the immediate future and I would be willing to do whatever possible at my end to ensure the success of such a relationship._

_I have heard from several sources of your desire to be an Auror – it is most certainly a worthy calling for the 'Boy Who Lived', and I would very much enjoy sharing some of my own experiences regarding the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with you. Of course anything we can do to further your career goal is never too much to ask._

_Thank you again for your correspondence, I hope that we will be able to maintain this contact,_

_Sincerely,_

_Rufus Scrimgour,_

_Minister of Magic._

Harry read through the letter twice and shook his head slightly. He remembered a time when he would have found the unconcealed flattery to be irritating and the blatant offers of help to be generous. The flattery no longer bothered him at all – thanks to the Carcer de Mallus – and he was no longer naïve enough to find the help offered generous. It was now deemed barely acceptable, considering the treatment he had received in the past.

The information regarding the reading of Sirius' Will was interesting. He was faintly surprised that Dumbledore hadn't mentioned it to him, as it seemed to be the perfect lure to get him to return to the Wizarding World. He would have to speak with Charles about attending, and making the appropriate arrangements.

He put the letter on his desk and turned to the other things that the Minister had sent him. Confirmation that all of Umbrige's Decrees had been overturned, especially the lifelong ban on Quidditch made up most of the remaining documents included with the letter, but there was also a 'security pack' that had apparently been issued to all homes.

Harry glanced through it and dumped it in the bin after coming to the conclusion that it was complete rubbish. He filed the other documents away in his desk just in case he ever needed to refer to them. He considered writing to his friends at Headquarters, but decided that he was too tired to make it seem as though he cared, and instead climbed into his bed with Wraith.

The time before his birthday practically melted away. He didn't see as much of Charles as he would have liked, as his Sire was constantly in the library or traveling wherever he felt necessary to try and find more information on the Carcer de Mallus.

Harry read as much as he could find on the Carcer de Mallus, but found very little beyond what he had discovered. He spent as much time as he could flying or looking through his old photo album at the pictures of his parents and Sirius. He figured that his memories of or about them would be considered positive.

He had already gotten used to his contact lenses, although putting them into his eyes had been awkward at first. He had adjusted to them very easily and they made it much easier to move around the house when the lights were on, or to go outside during the day time hours.

Charles, during one of the increasingly irregular meals they shared, had told Harry to write to Gringott's regarding his Godfather's Will and ask that if the reading was intended to be public, if he would be able to view it from a private location, as he didn't want to be seen by anyone else who was present.

"Remember to be very respectful in your letter," Charles had added, "Goblins are used to dealing with wizards who think themselves superior, they will give you much better service if you don't treat them like underlings – most wizards don't seem to realize that."

Harry found very quickly that this was the case. In response to his polite and respectful request, the goblins had assured him that he would be able to watch the reading of the Will from a room that would prevent anyone else from seeing him, although he would be able to see everyone perfectly. Harry made sure to remember to send a quick note back in thanks for the allowances they had made for him.

Harry discovered, when reading some of the nastier volumes that Charles provided him with, that he had a very definitive negative response to them. "You said I should keep you up to date with how I was responding to things emotionally," Harry added, when he explained to Charles what he was feeling.

"So I did, and thank you for that. You understand that you will have to try and keep reading the texts, don't you?"

"Yes, it's important that I exercise as many of my emotions as I can," Harry reassured his Sire, sighing. "I don't like it though."

"That would be the point," Charles pointed out and Harry grinned slightly in agreement.

"Charles, would I be able to meet more vampires, do you think? I know that I respond emotionally to you, and to general comments about other vampires much more than I do to humans. Maybe it would be good to explore how far that goes?"

Charles looked surprised, "I hadn't thought of that," he said, sounding disappointed in himself. "I will certainly see what I can organize – you're right, it might be beneficial to work with vampires, even though you will notice the change when you return to Hogwarts."

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, and left his Sire to it.

A short time later he was outside flying again, wishing that he had a Snitch to chase rather than just do practice maneuvers. He saw Wilfred working just within sight of him, and swooped down to land beside him.

"Master Harry," Wilfred said, standing slowly so that he could bow. "Can I help you?"

"I was just wondering if there was any Quidditch equipment in the Manor? Flying is great and all, but I would really like to be able to play with a Snitch, just to give myself some more purpose in the maneuvers."

"Hmm," Wilfred said, "I'm afraid there isn't any Quidditch equipment any more; the old Potters must have taken it with them, and Mister Charles was never a big player so he didn't bother replacing it. I'll have to have a look into it for you."

"Thanks, let me know if you find anything won't you?"

"Of course Master Harry," Wilfred smiled, and Harry took off again, but only to fly up to his open window to put his broom away for the day. Letters from his friends had arrived in his absence, and he gave them a quick glance over – general comments about wishing he was with them, hoping he was well, saying that they had wanted to do something special for his birthday.

Dumbledore did eventually send Harry a note detailing the time and place of Sirius' Will reading. Harry supposed that his headmaster had finally decided that Harry wasn't going to be found by the search parties, or coaxed out of his hiding place in any other way, and was now resorting to using Harry's affection for Sirius. Harry wrote briefly back to the Headmaster thanking him for the information but not saying whether or not he was planning on attending. He had only just finished finalising arrangements with the goblins to view the reading and avoid detection by Dumbledore. He had also organised to meet with the new Minister of Magic at Gringotts on the same day.

* * *

Before Harry knew it, the day before his birthday arrived. They hadn't made any headway on the Carcer de Mallus, which he could tell was frustrating Charles to no end. Harry was fairly sure that his Sire had extended his research to people who had been Kissed by Dementors, and the various things people had done to try and reverse that process.

"It's very difficult to find anything of course, because the only people who have been Kissed in recent times were the worst kind of criminals and no one really cares that much about trying to cure them – if they _were_ cured they'd only be kissed again," Charles groused at dinner that night.

"I know you'll find something," Harry said soothingly.

"I hope so. Would you mind if I looked into your mind again tonight? I want to see what's happened there now that a few weeks have passed," Charles requested, and Harry nodded. Again, Charles entered his mind and Harry had to make his shields let Charles in. As before, Charles barely let his presence be felt and was out before Harry was aware of anything happening.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"Not much has happened at all," Charles sounded disappointed. "A _slight_ improvement, but so miniscule that it doesn't make any difference to you overall."

"At least it hasn't gotten worse," Harry said optimistically.

"True, but it seems my initial calculations were a long way off. It will be at least a decade before you get any noticable improvement at this rate, and considerably longer to get back to how you were before," Charles rubbed his eyes tiredly, sighing.

"But you'll find something long before then," Harry pointed out, not sure if that would actually be helpful or just make Charles feel more pressured than before. "You've been around for centuries and you're putting everything you have into finding a cure. Something _must_ happen sooner than a decade from now."

"I hope so," Charles sighed.

"I _know_ so. But in the meantime my emotional state doesn't detract from my life – I may not have happiness but I do not have depression either," Harry pointed out. "It's going to be fine Charles; somehow we'll make it fine. I'll see what I can find at Hogwarts – discreetly of course – and send anything that seems useful back to you."

Charles took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I am sorry to bring up such macabre subjects the night before your birthday, this has just been so _frustrating_ for me."

Harry smiled. "Don't be sorry, I'm having dinner and a few games of chess with my Sire, I'm perfectly content."

"You still feel more connected to your emotions around me then?" Charles asked.

"Most definitely. I look forward to seeing you; I miss your company when you aren't here, and my memories of you still evoke emotion, unlike my memories of my old friends, or conversations with Lucy and Wilfred," Harry said.

Charles nodded slightly. "I wonder how much of that is my being your Sire and how much is that I'm another vampire," he wondered aloud.

Harry gave an eloquent shrug and moved a piece on the board, "Check mate," he said quietly. He was ninety nine per cent certain that Charles couldn't get out of it, and if he was right then it would be the first game against his Sire that he had won.

Charles was immediately distracted from his musings about Harry's emotions and reabsorbed by the chess game. "Congratulations," he said after several minutes of examining the board. "You beat me. Very well done!"

Harry smiled proudly as the board reset itself. "You were distracted," he pointed out.

"I was, and that was very devious of you," Charles smiled. "But it was a completely fair win all the same. I very rarely offer my full concentration to a game after all. Would you like to try your luck again?"

"Of course," Harry said, and waiting as – for the first time – Charles made the first move. It felt slightly strange to be playing with the black pieces, and a few times during the game he got slightly confused.

Part way through the game, the clock struck midnight. Charles immediately rose to his feet and walked around the board to embrace Harry. "Happy birthday," he said, as Harry hugged him back. "Would you like to open your presents now or in the morning?"

"Now," Harry said decisively, and Charles grinned.

"Boy after my own heart," he said. "I never could wait until morning either. You'll have to wait for the presents from Lucy and Wilfred though – they will want to be present when you open them. You can get the ones from me and your friends though."

"Ron and Hermione sent presents?" Harry asked, surprised because he hadn't seen them.

"Yes. I had Hedwig deliver them to me instead of your room. Come, all of your presents are waiting in your room for us," Charles announced, apparently even more excited than Harry was by the prospect of gifts. Harry followed his Sire through the house and found a small mount of presents sitting in the middle of his bed.

"Here, this one is from me," Charles said, immediately picking up a present and handing it to Harry.

Grinning at Charles' infectious enthusiasm, Harry took the gift and unwrapped it slowly, savouring the feeling of anticipation. When he removed the paper, he found a gorgeous dream catcher nestled inside. The circle was almost a foot in diameter, wrapped with red leather and golden thread formed the web inside it. There was a large ruby caught in the exact centre of the pattern, and long red-gold feathers dangled underneath it.

Harry stroked the feathers in awe, "Charles, these are _phoenix_ feathers," he said.

"Yes, I know," Charles said, "This is a large part of what I've been doing the past little while. I made it especially for you. Do you know much about dreamcatchers?"

"Not really," Harry admitted.

"Dreamcaters are designed to filter dreams. They are designed to be hung at the head of a bed, and to filter the dreams of the person – or people – sleeping under them. Very few people can actually charm proper dream catchers, which actually do prevent all bad dreams from being experienced, so most dream caters are just bogus charms sold to Muggles and tourists, but this is a true one.

"I've also added to the enchantments on this one and made it especially powerful. Not only will it prevent you from experiencing general bad dreams, it will also stop any dreams or visions that Voldemort tries to send you, as long as you are in your bed.

"Additionally, it will store all dreams and visions in the ruby and there is a spell you can use to view all of the dreams caught, either quickly or in detail, so that you are still aware of what's going in your mind, and what Voldemort is trying to do to you," Charles explained his gift carefully. "The phoenix feathers were needed to give it enough power to work properly considering the bond between you and Voldemort."

"That's … amazing," Harry said, almost completely lost for words. He hugged his Sire thankfully and stood to carefully hang the dream catcher above his bed. "I never thought you'd be able to do so much when I asked for help with this!"

"It is my greatest pleasure to have been able to help you with this problem," Charles assured him. "I only wish I could also provide a cure for what Voldemort has done to you."

"Let's not go into that again, please," Harry said, and Charles smiled slightly as he nodded his agreement.

"Just remember though – the dream catcher will only provide the additional protections to your mind when you are in bed. You still need to be careful about Voldemort trying to access your mind during the waking hours," Charles adding warningly.

"I know. I will have to work on my Occlumency more – it won't be good enough to just have the additional protection of vampire blood, not against Voldemort." Having read though more of his vampire book, Harry had discovered that after being Turned, vampire's developed a unique form of mind-shielding. As a half vampire his weren't as strong as a full-blood and a skilled _Legilimenes_ would be able to break through with some difficulty, even if they had never encountered that type of shield before. "Maybe Dumbledore will teach me this year – or Snape will. He might actually be able to teach me if we don't blow up at each other ever five seconds," he continued, musingly.

"I hope so. I can give you some books on the subject, but it is much easier to learn when you have someone teaching you," Charles offered.

"Thanks, I'll see what the library has to say on the subject before I go back to Hogwarts," Harry promised, reaching for another gift, this one a joint gift from Ron and Hermione.

Their gift was a beautifully made silver figurine of a large dog – Harry recognized it immediately as Sirius in his Animagus form. The eyes were made of clouded glass and looked very lifelike. The figurine, which was about the length of Harry's hand and made in perfect proportions, even moved. Its tail wagged gently and when Harry put it on the bed, it walked around a few times and then lay down and closed its eyes.

Harry smiled down at it, feeling the familiar sensation of his throat closing up and tears gathering in his eyes. Although he made no effort to suppress them, the tears remained unshed, his grief not quite strong enough to move him to actual tears.

"It's perfect," he said softly, reaching out to run a single finger down the figurines back. The eyes opened for a moment and it panted slightly at him before sleeping again. "Did you ever see Sirius in his Animagus form?" he asked Charles.

"Not personally. But from all the accounts I heard this is a very accurate representation," Charles replied.

Harry nodded, looking at the dog for a long moment before reading Ron and Hermione's note. It was just a quick one, saying that they hoped it would help remind him of all the good times that he had with Sirius.

The rest of the presents were far less remarkable. The Twins sent him a huge number of newly developed pranking supplies and very nifty items that they were playing with; Molly sent him a hand knitted jumper and a birthday cake.

The last thing he opened that night was the second present that Charles had gotten for him, and he found a beautifully made enchanted trunk inside. It was made from a dark timbre and had been inlaid with gold – his name was on the top and the Potter family crest was on the front: an ornate letter P surrounded by a dragon and unicorn.

Inside, there were three separate compartments. "I was thinking of having a more extravagant one made for you, with an internal library and full rooms, but I didn't think it would be necessary," Charles told him with a grin. "This should be all you need."

He showed Harry how to work it. The first two compartments were easy to see and access. One of them expanded to have hanging space and drawers for him to store all of his clothes properly; the other was segmented so he could store all of his books by subject so that he would be able to find them easily, and contained drawers that he could put supplies and parchment in when he wasn't actually using it.

The third compartment was a hidden one, and the lock for it was located in the middle of the P on the family crest. His Blood Stone was the perfect shape to fit within the oval of the P, and all he had to do was put them together and then open the compartment.

This compartment was also segmented, with places for all the possessions he wouldn't want anyone to see. There was a place for the vampire book that Charles had given him, the Marauders Map, his invisibility cloak, and places were he could put new things that he might get and not want people to find.

The trunk had a Weigh-Less charm on it so that it would be easy to transport even when it was jammed full of Harry's belongings and also had a book bag. "I charmed this one myself," Charles told Harry proudly, and explained that the bag was linked to his trunk with Blood Magic, and that if he used his Blood Magic, he could request anything from his trunk to appear in his bag, or send anything from his bag to his trunk.

"So you won't get caught out with that Map, or your invisibility cloak, and won't need to go running all over the castle if you realise you've forgotten a book you need," Charles said with a grin. "The bag will also expand on the inside to fit any amount of stuff inside, and has Weigh-Less charm on it so it will be easy to carry around or store."

Harry hugged Charles again in delight. This trunk really would make things easier at Hogwarts – he wouldn't have to worry about running around after things, and as long as he didn't leave things in the common room, he would be able to access anything he had forgotten to bring to class through the bag.

He took all of his new presents and placed them around the room, putting the figurine of the Padfoot on his bedside table. Charles banished all of the wrapping paper before saying goodnight. "I'm sure you're going to have a very big day tomorrow," Charles said, using the most mysterious tone of voice he could summon up and Harry smiled tiredly.

"I better get some sleep then," he decided, giving Charles a final hug and collapsing into his bed to sleep.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke up more excited than he remembered being since his ordeal with the Carcer de Mallus – he was going to have a real birthday! He let the feeling of a pleasantly uncomfortable sensation of anticipation build as he got up and slowly showered and dressed.

The sun was well above the horizon when he made his way to the room where he always went for breakfast. Charles hadn't been joining him as often lately, but since Harry hadn't been told anything about what was planned for today, he decided that he would go there and see what happened.

As soon as he walked into the room, the entire household jumped out, and yelled "Happy Birthday!" before taking turns at hugging him tightly. Even the two house elves were present, looking slightly overwhelmed at being in the social presence of their masters.

The table with the chess board was covered by a table cloth and two cakes – the one that Mrs. Weasley had sent and one that was presumably made by the house elves or Lucy – were sitting on top of it. Each cake at eight lit candles, and Harry was told to blow them all out and make his wish.

While he did this, his new family sang the Happy Birthday song as loudly as they could – the house elf voices creating a slightly discordant sound – and Harry cut them all pieces of cake to sit down with. The house elves were almost overwhelmed by being presented with their own slices of cake and told to pull up chairs. Despite Charles being a good master, they had always stuck to tradition and remained socially separate from the family.

When they had eaten cake, Harry was presented with the last of his presents. Lucy gave him a diary, with a cover that was charmed to look exactly like _Hogwarts: A History_ so that people wouldn't try to read it. "I thought writing your thoughts and feelings down might help you with getting yourself back to normal, and that since you won't be able to talk to your friends about what happened over the summer you might need something else to confide in when you're at school," she explained.

Harry tore the paper off Wilfred's present next, and was stunned to find a wooden box with a snitch lovingly carved on top. Inside was a real Golden Snitch, and when he opened the lid it zoomed into the air. Lightning fast, Harry's hand shot out and caught it.

His family cheered at the catch and he smiled, carefully putting the ball back into its box and closing the lid so it wouldn't escape in the room again.

Even the house elves had gotten him something. They presented him with a hand-made card that sang Happy Birthday in house elf voices, and Holly had knitted him a scarf of beautiful blue wool. "Thank you so much," he told both them, patting their shoulders while they hugged his knees, delighted that he'd liked their gifts.

He also hugged both Lucy and Wilfred, and their happy smiles told him how much they appreciated his effort to connect with them. All three adults caught the looks he kept sending in the direction of the box with his new Snitch in it, and once they had all had another slice of cake, Charles laughed. "Why don't we let you go and play with your Snitch – we'll call you in for lunch. The real party isn't until tonight."

Harry grinned on purpose and raced back through the house to collect his Firebolt and take off. Once outside, he opened the Snitch box again and let it escape, catching it mere seconds later and the tucking box securely into a pocket so he wouldn't lose it.

He released the Snitch and caught it again easily before it managed to get more than a foot away. He looked down at the Snitch in his hands, suddenly realizing what it reminded him of: the only memory he had ever seen of his father, who had been playing with a Snitch under a tree at school and showing off.

It gave Harry a curious sense of satisfaction, of connection to his father and his past. He chose to ignore the fact the memory had ended by revealing the darker, bullying side of his father. He knew that he would never be like that, he'd been put down too many times in the past himself.

He realized he had been hovering for almost a minute, caught up the revelations of the year before, and let the Snitch go. This time he gave it a head start and closed his eyes for a few seconds before chasing after it. He lost track of the time very quickly, and only noticed how long it had been when his eyes and skin began to smart from being out in the sunlight for so long.

Regretfully he caught the Snitch one last time and put it away in its little box before heading in. It was only as he landed that he remembered Lucy's comment about the 'real party' being that night and wondering what exactly would be happening then.

When he went looking for Charles to ask what was going to happen, he couldn't find his Sire anywhere, and even drawing on the limited amount of Blood Magic he had to access the blood bond between them, he couldn't get any sense of the man.

Frowning, he called for Holly. "Holly, do you know what's happening tonight?"

"Holly is not being allowed to tell Master Harry that!" the elf informed him. "Master Harry is being very surprised tonight!"

"Could you tell me where Charles is?" Harry tried a different tact.

The elf shook her head violently again. "No, Holly is not being allowed to tell Master Harry that either. Holly is being told that Master Harry will be told what he is needing to know when it is time for him to be getting ready!" she popped away before Harry could ask anything else, so Harry returned to his room.

His birthday had never been a particularly special day in the past, and despite what had been done to his emotions, he had already had the best birthday of his life. Whatever else he might get later in the day would be a bonus, and he realized that he didn't even mind not being able to see Charles until the night time.

Harry spent the day in his room, reading yet more books. He had decided that since it _was_ his birthday, he wasn't going to read any of the unpleasant books that _might_ be able to help him with the Carcer de Mallus, and instead spent the afternoon reading up on more offensive and defensive magic and trying out some interesting new spells.

It was almost dark when he returned to his room and found a note resting on his pillow in Charles' ornate writing.

_Ball Room 7:30_

_Dress to impress_.

Harry read the note quickly, shrugged and went to have a quick shower – if he was supposed to be impressive, he had better not turn up smelling like he'd just finished a long workout. Once clean, he spent a little while deciding on his clothes – Charles had not specified Muggle or Wizard clothing, so Harry supposed he was free to chose himself.

He opted for Muggle dress, and picked out black slacks, a dark red silk shirt and a fashionable coat from his wardrobe. After some consideration, he decided against a tie and picked comfortable but good looking leather shoes. A quick polishing charm and they were perfect.

He also spent a little while deciding on what to do with his hair. It had grown out longer since he had left his aunt and uncles, and now had enough weight to it so that it didn't stick up in every direction. He ended up quickly running a comb and some gel through his hair so that it ended up looking slightly windswept but perfectly respectable.

Once finished he eyed himself briefly in the mirror and decided that he looked 'impressive' enough for anything Charles might have in mind. Harry made his way quickly to the ballroom after that, as he only had five minutes before he was supposed to arrive.

At exactly the specified time, Harry knocked lightly on the door, which swung open as soon as he touched it. Inside was a scene that took his breath away. What must have been literally hundreds of people were inside; all dressed up in gowns and suits, most of them were separated into partners and were dancing slowly to the music. The room was lit by huge floating chandeliers, each one sporting hundreds of lit candles.

Everyone there seemed to be wearing a mask of some description, most just ones that covered their eyes. A masked man approached Harry, but the Blood Bond between them immediately told him that it was Charles. "Welcome Harry, to the Masquerade Ball!" his Sire said, handing him a simple silvery mask.

Without protest, Harry slipped it over his head and adjusted it so that he was comfortable. "Who are all of these people?" Harry asked, although he already had a fairly good idea.

"They are your people – all the vampires that I have had the pleasure of knowing over the years who accepted my offer to come to your party. They all wanted to meet the famous half-vampire who has promised to do so much for our kind," Charles explained.

Harry only nodded slightly as Charles had confirmed his suspicions. "I suppose I should mingle," he remarked, feeling faintly nervous.

"Remember, this is a Masquerade. They do not have to know who you are unless you want to tell them. Later we shall have a grand unmasking, and then perhaps things will get a little hectic, depending on how you handle the situation."

"What advice do you have for me on this?" Harry enquired.

"None," Charles said cheerfully, "I want you to become a force to be reckoned with, you can't do that if you are constantly turning to others to find out what you should be doing. You need to become comfortable with acting on your own. Off you go now!"

Charles stepped away from a slightly bewildered Harry and bowed politely to a vampire lady nearby, offering his hand to escort her onto the dance floor. She curtseyed slightly as she accepted his hand and they were gone before Harry could protest being left on his own.

Harry stood rooted to the spot, watching as his Sire swept onto the dance floor, gracefully leading the beautiful vampire woman in the complex steps of the dance. He took a look around the immediate area and noticed the food-laden table behind him. With the thought that eating was safer than dancing, he made his way over to the table and picked out a few delicacies to eat.

He managed to hover there exchanging vague pleasantires for almost ten minutes before a young-looking vampire woman approached him. From what little he could see of her face and skin, Harry judged that she would have been Turned in her early twenties. "Why do you hover by the food when there is dancing to be done?" she asked him, her voice filled with gentle laughter.

Harry gave a remarkably free smile and sketched a bow, "I was waiting for a beautiful girl to dance with," he said, offering her his arm. Charles had taught him a few different dances; he hoped that it would be enough to not make a fool of himself.

"If you wish to dance with beautiful women, you may have to go looking for them in future. Most have no need to look for partners," the girl said, a faint trace of rebuke lurking beneath her laughter.

"I will remember that if I need to search for a different one to dance with," Harry said, leading her on to the floor. She stayed with him for several dances, showing him the steps to the one's he hadn't done before. Harry found himself fervently thanking the traces of vampire blood in his system – the natural grace of that species made learning dances much easier.

In breaks between the dances they spoke a little; never of particularly personal things, in respect for the Masquerade aspect of the event. Harry was surprised at how easy it was to talk to her without ever needing a name or having any concrete information on their lives emerge.

After a little while though, she moved away, and Harry found another woman to dance with. His first partner had at least broken the shyness he had been feeling, and Harry let himself go to enjoy the dance.

The night progressed completely without hitch. Harry alternated between dancing with ladies and mingling with small groups discussing whatever came to hand. He learnt some new things about vampire society, and didn't feel too awkward talking about a number of topics At midnight, they had the Great Unmasking, and the dancing wound down slightly as dawn approached. Even without the anonymity of the mask, Harry was enjoying himself enough to not feel shy about asking the girls to dance.

A few hours before dawn, the guests began departing. Harry joined Charles in fare-welling each guest individually at the front doors, bowing politely to the ladies and shaking hands with the gentlemen. By the time the last guest left, Harry was exhausted.

"How did you enjoy that Harry?" Charles asked, as he closed the door behind the final guest.

"It was brilliant," Harry replied through his exhaustion. "Definitely the best birthday ever!"

"And was our hypothesis correct? Could you engage emotionally with them?" Charles asked hopefully.

"Most definitely yes," Harry nodded, smiling broadly.

"Would you mind if I looked into your mind again?" Charles asked politely, and Harry nodded his permission, already lowering his shields as Charles whispered _"Legilimenes!_"

Charles was in and out before Harry was properly aware, and he was smiling. "Good news?" Harry asked.

"There was obvious improvement. Not a lot, but at least an easily noticeable change. You will have to join me when we are entertaining any vampire guests in the future," Charles said decisively. "I would certainly recommend that you try and keep in contact with the people you met tonight. They are all fairly prominent in our society and there is undoubtedly a lot that you can learn from them."

"OK," Harry nodded, hiding a huge yawn behind a hand. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"No Harry, you go and sleep, you look dead on your feet," Charles said with an affectionate smile. "We will have plenty of time to talk about tonight later."

Harry nodded, stumbling back to his room. Before he slept, he called Holly to him. "Holly, I may need you to come and make sure I get up in time for the Will Reading tomorrow, it's at one in the afternoon."

"Holly is making sure that Master Harry sir is awake in time!" the elf squeaked affirmatively, and Harry gave a faint smile in thanks as he climbed into bed. He gave Wraith a very brief stroke before sleep claimed him totally. It had been a very good day.

* * *

Edited 21 October 2008

My question for this chapter, then, is: Would rather see Harry remain a half-vampire or be fully changed sometime before the story ends? Or find some weird treatment that lets him become actually human again.

Some small changes made in this chapter, along with grammar. Namely that Harry will be keeping in contact with some of the vampires he met at the party.

WolfMoon


	10. Reading of the Will

Disclaimer: Not mine

Thanks: to my beta, for fixing these chapters!

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Ten: Reading the Will

Gringotts was as huge and imposing as ever, Harry noted distantly, as he and Charles made their way down Diagon Alley. They were moving at a speed that would get them to Gringotts as quickly as possible while drawing as little notice as they could get away with.

Harry looked different enough, without glasses, his hair grown out and dressed in his finest robes, that people _shouldn't_ recognize him. A quick charm on his scar had made it seem much less noticeable than before, but it was fairly likely that someone who actually knew him well would be present on the street; Harry knew that a large number of people in the Order would be present for the Will reading also.

They didn't speak to each other either; Harry's voice would be far more recognizable than his appearance at this point, and it would make the day extremely difficult if they were spotted. They made it to Gringotts safely, and Harry heard Charles sigh softly in relief.

Harry yawned as surreptitiously as possible while they waited for a staff member to speak to. He had slept straight through until midday, and Holly had needed to be a little inventive when she tried to wake him. A shower and a light meal had made him feel less annoyed at being awake, but he was still very tired after the dance the night before.

"We are here for the reading of Mr. Black's Will," Charles murmured quietly to the teller when they finally reached the end of the queue. "Mr. Potter and escort."

The teller nodded and summoned another goblin. "Gaptooth will show you to the room you requested," he said, also quietly, and Charles nodded in thanks. Harry and his Sire followed the new goblin out one of the many doors in the bank. They were led to a small room with a glass wall on one side; through it, they could see a far larger chamber filling with people.

Harry recognized Hermione, the Weasley's, Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore and many other members of the Order of the Phoenix making their way into the room and sitting down. He also noticed Draco Malfoy and his mother, and a number of people he recognized as being mainly Slytherin's from school, accompanied by older family members.

These must be all the Pureblood relations to the Black family, he decided. Malfoy, he knew, was a reasonably close relative. He hadn't paid much attention to the other names of distant family on the tapestry at Grimmauld Place.

"This chamber is completely unnoticeable from the other side," Gaptooth explained to them quietly. "You will be able to hear everything that is said perfectly clearly, however. Good day." He was gone before either of them could say anything.

"Goblins on a whole detest wizards," Charles said quietly, as he and Harry took the only two seats that had been provided. "Our society has wronged them too many times to count now, but they remember every single slight we have ever done them."

"You would think that we would be smart enough to keep on good terms with the beings that hold all of our money," Harry remarked absently. He was looking at the room filled with people from old his life and trying to find some semblance of emotional attachment to them. There was nothing. The people in the room before him could have been strangers for all the concern he felt for them.

He watched as those who were friends of his looked around hopefully – Albus Dumbledore was doing a fairly good job of feigning unconcern, but Harry could tell that the old wizard was paying as careful attention to each new arrival as anyone else in the room.

"They're looking for you," Charles remarked.

Harry nodded in agreement. "I know. Dumbledore isn't doing a very good job of pretending he doesn't care, is he?"

"He seems to have everyone in there fooled, but then, they are distracted. Are you feeling any temptation to go and talk to your friends? If you want to go back, you know I won't stop you," Charles said quietly.

"You are my Sire, and I am not yet well enough versed in vampire laws and customs to think about leaving your side for any amount of time," Harry pointed out.

"That wasn't my question."

"No, I feel no inclination to speak with them. I feel no connection at all to anyone in that room, positive or negative," Harry told him.

"I am getting a better idea of what's happened to your emotions," Charles told him quietly. "I hope to have a cure by Christmas, but by the end of the school year at the very latest."

Harry nodded. "It would be good, to feel again," he said quietly, missing the sympathetic look his Sire sent in his direction. Charles was prevented from speaking as a goblin walked into the room carrying an important looking document.

Harry listened quietly as his godfather's Will was read. It went much as he expected it might. Sirius had left monetary amounts to Remus and a few other people he had been close to, but everything else had gone to Harry. He had been named head of the Black family as Sirius's heir, and had been left 'all associated properties, inheritances, monies and artifacts', including the family elf.

Harry noted that both Draco and Narcissa Malfoy looked highly disgusted by the proceeding of the Will, and knew from that expression that they couldn't do anything about what Sirius had left in his Last Will and Testament. Everything Sirius had done was strictly within his power.

As the room on the other side of the glass began to empty, Harry overheard part of conversation between Dumbledore and Remus, who had remained until everyone else left the room. "I was truly hoping Harry would be present today. Until we can speak to him, we have no way of knowing whether it is safe to use Grimmauld Place as headquarters."

"I was hoping he would be here too, but for slightly more selfish reasons," Remus sighed. "I feel that I failed him; disappearing as I did to deal with Sirius's death on my own. I should have been there for him." A pause, then: "How could Harry's presence determine if Grimmauld Place was safe?" Harry noticed that Remus actually seemed interested in the answer; the last time they had spoken, the man had been so apathetic it was impossible to talk to him.

"I'm not sure how Sirius claimed Harry as his legal heir, or if the process he used actually worked. Since his actions gave Harry control of Kreacher, if Harry could summon the elf and give it an order that the elf obeyed, then it would confirm that Sirius did in fact do everything right when he was organizing his Will," Dumbledore explained. "Well, Harry has promised that he will be attending Hogwarts in September, so I suppose we will simply have to wait until then to find out if it is still safe."

"Your current location is not so bad from all reports. Everyone seems to be coping alright."

"It doesn't have quite the same security," Dumbledore pointed out. "And Harry being here would have meant we could ensure that he is safe and well still – all our efforts have come up with nothing and now the Ministry isn't even helping in the search. Minister Scrimgeour may be prepared to accept a letter as proof that Harry is alright, but he could have been fooled."

"Personally, I think that Harry is probably taking a well-deserved break from his relatives," Remus remarked. "I wish that I had made myself more available to him after everything that happened. If I had, perhaps he wouldn't have felt the need to leave as he did. But I think his friends are right, it's doing him good to be away from Privet Drive."

"The blood wards protected him there," Dumbledore sighed. "If it wasn't for them, then I would be happy to see Harry away from those people as well. If he doesn't return there within the next two weeks, the wards will fall, and he will not be able to return there if he is threatened."

"If it gets that bad then he can hide in Headquarters with all of us there to protect him," Remus pointed out, "Or in Hogwarts – it will be the last place to fall should Voldemort get further ahead in this war. Harry will be fine, Albus. He's been keeping himself alive for years now, I'm sure he will continue to do so."

"I hope you are right, Remus. The consequences of losing him would be more dreadful than I like to think about." With that, the conversation ended as Dumbledore left the room. Remus stood there for a few minutes longer, as if hoping that Harry would suddenly appear, then he left as well.

"That was interesting," Charles remarked softly.

"The bit about the blood wards falling, you mean?" Harry questioned softly. The Will itself hadn't been hugely surprising; he had become accustomed to the reality of having a vast fortune at his disposal, the knowledge that he had an even larger one than before didn't particularly phase him.

"Yes. It is a sure sign that they were made by a wizard – no vampire would craft wards which actually needed you to be there in order to keep them going. What if you have to go away unexpectedly and _can't_ go back for over the specified time limit, for whatever reason? But it is good news – they will have fallen by the time you return to Hogwarts, so the Headmaster will not force you to return there at the end of the year."

"We will have to see whether he will actually allow me to return to Potter Manor peacefully," Harry said, frowning slightly. "At least he has nothing else to hold over me to force me to go somewhere I do not wish to now. Or he won't, in two weeks time."

Their conversation was interrupted as Gaptooth entered the room. "All the other wizards who were here to view the reading of Mr. Black's Will have now left the bank," he announced. "I will take you to the conference room you arranged for your meeting with Mr. Scrimgeour."

"Thank you, Gaptooth," Harry said politely, standing with Charles. "Also, please convey our thanks to all personnel involved in setting this room up for use by myself and my companion. It was much appreciated." The goblin looked slightly surprised by the polite tone Harry used, but didn't seem at all impressed. He didn't say anything else as he led them down a few more corridors and gestured to a door.

"The Minister will join you there," he said shortly and left.

"Did I do something wrong?" Harry asked Charles in confusion.

"Goblins don't like it when humans – especially wizards – are polite to them. They assume that it's only an attempt to win their goodwill, which will then be used as the basis to make huge demands on them. They tend to avoid wizards who are actively polite."

Harry sighed. "I was only being polite," he said.

"I know that, and you know that. It was the right thing to do," Charles assured him.

"I suppose I will simply have to show them that I am being polite because I consider the right thing to do, rather than to take advantage of them," Harry remarked, opening the door and stepping into the room, noting that the Minister had not arrived yet. "Goblins would make better allies than enemies."

"Actions speak louder than words," Charles quoted the old adage in agreement, as they took their seats to wait for the Minister. He arrived only a few minutes later.

"Mr. Potter!" the Minister waited until the door was firmly closed behind him to exclaim loudly and come forward to shake Harry's hand.

As they shook, Harry examined the man who had taken over from Fudge. He was a tall man, and it was obvious that he had seen more than his fair share of combat, although he was not nearly as scarred as Alastor Moody. He had a huge mane of hair and intelligent tawny eyes and walked with a pronounced limp. Harry felt vaguely reminded of an old lion.

"Minister," he said politely. "This is a close friend of mine, Charles," he added, gesturing to his companion.

Charles stepped forward and shook hands with the Minister as well. "Minister," he nodded, "Harry has been staying with me since he left his relatives at the beginning of the holidays."

"I see," Scrimgeour obviously wanted to ask more, but clearly wasn't sure that it would be a well-received question. He held his silence as they returned to their seats around the circular table in the middle of the room. "How did you cope with your late godfather's Will, Mr. Potter?"

"Well enough. He left me a great deal, it's still sinking in," Harry answered, not giving the Minister an opening. "How goes the Ministry's stand against Voldemort?" He was pleasantly surprised when the Minister didn't flinch at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

"Could be doing much better," the man said honestly, "But we could be doing a whole lot worse as well. At present we're counting our blessings, as he hasn't been too active this summer. It's giving us some chance to reform and deal with everything that Fudge left on our plates."

"I imagine there has been a lot of house-cleaning going on at the Ministry at present," Harry said diplomatically. "I hope you weren't put in too difficult a situation when you took control."

"I'm coping," Scrimgeour said with a wolfish smile. "But it's difficult to win the public's support at present, what with all my predecessor's failings getting a bit too much press coverage. I was hoping, Mr. Potter, that you would be able to help on that front."

"That would depend largely on the help you wanted, Minister."

"Rufus, please," the Minister said – had Harry not seen the faintly calculating gleam in the man's eye as he said, he would have almost believed that the comment was offhand.

"Then you must call me Harry," he interrupted before the Minister could continue.

"Of course, Harry," Rufus couldn't quite hide how happy he was to get Harry's permission to switch to a first name basis. "I was hoping that you would like to become a more … public figure at the Ministry. Possibly come by and have a few tours of our departments, maybe a few photos with the Aurors? I heard you wanted to join them."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible at present," Harry said politely. "I would be happy to take you up on your offer at some point in the future – in exchange for a few concessions on your part, of course."

"Concessions?" Harry saw the change in the Minister's eyes; from pleased to trapped. He knew - and so did the Minister - that Harry was needed; concessions he asked for would have to be carefully considered and if not granted outright then compromised, at risk of losing the public's support entirely.

"I will want your assurance that the press does not treat me as they have in the past. The constant up-down of their opinion of me has been ... distressing, and tends to make my life unnecessarily difficult. I realise, of course, that the Ministry doesn't have a lot of control over the _Prophet_, but as our friendship will be of mutual benefit, I'm sure that there will be mutual support. I will say good things about the Ministry, but you must also say good things about me," Harry watched as the Minister relaxed, and gave an internal smirk.

"Of course, you have no need to fear a repeat of my pre-decessors mistakes regarding your image," Rufus said. "Was that all?"

"No. As you said, I have an interest in joining the Ministry, possibly as an Auror, possibly in another department I haven't quite decided yet. I would like your assurance that my opinions and suggestions - should I choose to voice them - will be listened to."

The Minister froze; then forcibly relaxed. He looked like he was carefully weighing his response to Harry's request. He couldn't afford to say no, if doing so would alienate Harry. The Ministry needed Harry's support too much for that, but the request was a very difficult one.

Harry remained silent, forcing the Minister to respond. "Of course, any suggestions from such a well-regarded young man would be taken very seriously by the Ministry as a whole," the Minister bowed to Harry's demands, although he certainly didn't promise to _act_ on Harry's suggestions. Harry didn't let his satisfaction show – that was just the first step towards getting vampires a better lot in magical society.

"I am aware, of course, that suggestions I make might not be in line with the direction the Ministry is moving. I do not expect such suggestions to be necessarily actioned, just seriously considered," Harry added; he didn't want the Minister to be backed into a political corner; it would make him dangerous. "Was there anything else you wished to discuss? It has already been a long day for us."

"When could we look forward to your presence in the Ministry?"

"You will most definitely need to wait until school begins, I'm afraid. I have no plans to move into the public view until then. You and I will both undoubtedly need to speak with Professor Dumbledore regarding the matter of allowing me off school grounds to attend tours of the Ministry Departments and any functions you might want my presence for. I would also consent to meeting with reporters, or conducting interviews via the Floo network or letters during the school year, in which I would be happy to mention my involvement with the Ministry," Harry told him firmly.

"That sounds delightful, my dear boy. Would you mind if I mentioned in an upcoming press conference that we had met and were looking forward to a much closer relationship?" Again, the Minister could not help but show how desperate he was for Harry to agree.

"I would have no problem with that at all," Harry assured him. "But now my companion and I must really be returning to our home, if there was nothing else? We are expecting guests tonight."

"Of course," the Minister nodded. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today."

"Think nothing of it, Minister," Harry returned politely, opening the door and holding it to allow the Minister to pass through first. "I look forward to seeing you more in the upcoming school year."

He and Charles left the bank shortly after and Charles Aparated both of them back to Potter Manor, relieved to get out of the hustle of Diagon Alley and away from the stressful possibility of someone recognizing Harry.

"I think that went well," Charles announced as they settled in to a light meal and a game of chess. "You dealt with the Minister admirably."

Harry nodded absently, his mind elsewhere, "Charles, in the Will, it was said that I was to receive all associated inheritances. What did the mean? I didn't receive _any_ inheritances, as far as I'm aware."

"You haven't read anything about Inheritances yet?" Charles enquired, Harry shook his head. "An Inheritance cannot be claimed by a minor, and can _only _be claimed by the Head of a House. Unless you are emancipated before you turn seventeen, you will have to wait until next year to receive any of the Inheritances you are due to receive."

"And you can't claim them on my behalf?" Harry asking, wanting to confirm.

"No; no relative or legal guardian can claim any inheritance for their charge. You have been named Head of the Black family, and as such you are the only one who will be able to access the Inheritances."

"What do you think they will be?" Harry asked, with only the barest hint of curiosity.

"That is not for me to say," Charles dismissed the query. "You will not learn anything of your Inheritances until it is time to accept them. I will say no more on the subject."

Harry nodded, making a mental note to look into Inheritances in the library as soon as possible. Charles' reticence on the subject was enough to make him want to find out more. Knowing as much as possible about anything and everything to do with his life would be important.

"Harry, you were listening to the conversation between Dumbledore and the werewolf, weren't you?"

"Remus Lupin," Harry said automatically, and Charles gave him a strange look. "The werewolf...His name is Remus Lupin. And yes, I was listening."

"It would be a good idea to confirm that your godfather did everything correctly when he was organizing his Will," Charles pointed out. "Perhaps you should summon the house elf he mentioned, to make sure. Otherwise the entire Will could be called into question."

Harry gave a slight nod. "Kreacher!" he barked, and with a loud crack the revolting, mad house elf appeared. Harry saw the disgust on Charles' face as he looked down upon the wreck of a being in front of them. Kreacher was, as usual, muttering insanely under his breath.

"Silence," Harry ordered, and the elf looked surprised when he stopped speaking. The outrage on Kreacher's shriveled face was almost comical. "It would seem that Sirius did perform the magic correctly – I am your master now Kreather."

The elf was shaking his head in silent denial. "You organised for your last master do die, Kreacher. That is a death sentence for any house elf, as I am sure you are aware," Harry continued. "But I understand that Sirius and you shared a mutual hatred for one another, and that this was mostly why you acted as you did.

"I will not have you executed, though it is within my rights. You will have to earn the right to this continued mercy – you will act as a proper house elf. You will not speak rudely to or about me, my old friends, Sirius or any other member of the Order of the Phoenix. You will not give away any information related to these people to anyone besides myself, without my express permission. You will return to Grimmauld Place and you will continue to assist them in the clean up that is going on there – do you understand? You may speak."

"Kreacher understands," the elf said resentfully.

"Good. In return for your good behaviour, I ask that you bring any objects that members of the Order of the Phoenix discard – be they dark artifacts or family heirlooms – to me immediately. I will find an appropriate place to store them, and decide on a case-by-case basis what to do with those objects. Rest assured nothing will be destroyed or discarded without a very good reason."

"New-Master will not destroy the noble house of Black?" Kreacher asked hesitantly.

"I will do nothing of the sort. I want you to go to Albus Dumbledore and tell him that we have spoken. Tell him that Sirius performed the magic correctly and that I am your master now, and that Grimmauld Place will still be open for use as Headquarters. And Kreacher?"

"Yes Master?"

"Bring me those things that you ferreted away in your little nest downstairs; I will take care of them here for you, and I promise that they will be well looked-after."

"Yes Master!" Kreacher vanished, but just before he did, Harry saw – for the first time – a look of happy contentment on the elf's face.

"That was remarkably well handled Harry," Charles remarked.

"Without all the emotional attachments to my Godfather, I can see that his treatment of Kreacher was a huge factor in the elf's betrayal," Harry shrugged. "If I treat him decently, then he will have no cause to try to betray me as well. He could provide a good ally in the fight against Voldemort if we can convince Bellatrix and the Malfoy's that Kreacher is still loyal to them, while retaining his loyalty ourselves."

"You are thinking more objectively … I would consider that a great thing if I didn't know the reason behind it," Charles told him proudly, but sadly. "When we get your emotions functioning as they should, please don't forget how to do that."

"I'll try," Harry acknowledged.

"I know you will," Charles smiled at him. There was a sudden crack beside them and Jinty appeared, holding an envelope.

"Mister Charles, Master Harry," the elf bobbed his head at both of them, "This is being just delivered to Master Harry's room! Jinty is thinking Master Harry is wanting it right away!" he offered the letter to Harry, who reognised it immediately as having come from Hogwarts.

"Must be the OWL results," he said to Charles, not even noticing when Jinty vanished again, his job done.

"Well go on then! Open it!" Charles ordered, much more excited than his young ward at the prospect of seeing the exam results.

Harry offered a brief smile at his Sire and very slowly broke the seal on the envelope. He could see Charles' anticipation building, and got some small pleasure out of the suspense he knew he was causing.

He opened the accompanying letter first, and read through it quickly.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Please find enclosed a copy of your results for the OWLs you sat at the end of last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Congratulations on achieving your OWLs. The Department of Education is delighted to be able to provide you with your examination results, and your school (Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry) has included a list of the courses you will be able to attend next year, based on your results._

_After this year, your attendance at school is not compulsory. Should you wish to leave Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and move directly into the work force, simply send a message to your school informing them of your decision._

_Should you choose to sit you NEWTs, we advise you select your courses for the next two years very carefully. Your subjects, the marks you receive for the NEWTs themselves and your assignments throughout the school year will have a huge impact on the careers that will be available to you._

_Signed,_

And then followed a long list of signatures from all of the ranking members of the Department of Education, Harry skimmed over them without much interest. He handed the letter to Charles to read through, and smirked slightly at the look his Sire gave him.

While Charles read through the letter, Harry took out the next sheet of parchment in the envelope and read through it very carefully.

_Mr. Potter, please find below a list of your results for the OWL examinations you sat last year._

_Astrology-The student has received an Acceptable grade in the practical examination, and an Exceeds Expectations grade in the theoretical component of the course and has achieved an overall grade of Acceptable. _

_Care of Magical Creatures-The student has received an Exceeds Expecations grade in both the theoretical and practical components of this subject, and has achieved an overall grade of Exceeds Expectations._

_Charms–The student has received an Exceeds Expectation grade in the practical examination, and an Exceeds Expectations grade in the theoretical examination and has achieved an overall grade of Exceeds Expectations._

_Defence Against the Dark Arts-The student has received an Outstanding grade in both the practical and theoretical components of this exam and has achieved an overall grade of Outstanding. The student has received bonus marks in this examination by casting a corporeal Patronus at the examiners request._

_Divination-The student has received an Acceptable grade in theoretical component of this course, and a Poor grade in the practical examination and has achieved an overall grade of Poor._

_Herbology-The student has received an Exceeds Expectations grade in both theoretical and practical components of the examination and has achieved an overall grade of Exceeds Expectations._

_History of Magic-The student has received a Dreadful grade in the theoretical examination for this subject, and has achieved an overall grade of Dreadful._

_Potions-The student has achieved an Acceptable grade in the theoretical component of the examination, and an Outstanding in the practical component and has achieved an overall grade of Exceeds Expectation._

_Transfiguration-The student has received an Exceeds Expectations grade in both theoretical and practical components of this exam and has achieved an overall grade of Exceeds Expectations._

_Overall, the student has achieved:_

_1 Outstanding Grade_

_5 Exceeds Expectations Grades_

_1 Acceptable Grade_

_1 Poor Grade_

_1 Dreadful Grade_

_The student has received 7 OWLs, and failed two subjects._

Once Harry finished reading through the marks, he read through it again, with one eye watching Charles. The vampire was actually fidgeting with his eagerness to find out how Harry had done in his exams, and Harry took a brief pleasure in breaking through Charles' reserved outer shell.

Looking over his results, Harry couldn't help but think that he could have done a lot better. His time with Charles over the summer had shown him some of the benefits of study, and he knew that if he sat the same exams again today he could do much better than he had the year before.

Then again, the year before he had been struggling with Fudge, Umbridge, Snape, Dumbledore and Voldemort, as well as his own adolescent hormones kicking in. He supposed that in light of that, he had done well enough. "Here Charles," Harry finally took pity on his Sire and handed over the grades; he smiled slightly as Charles snatched them from his hands.

He waited patiently for Charles to read through his results; his own thoughts were mostly on the Potions grade. He knew that Snape refused to teach anyone who scored less than an Outstanding in his subject, and over the summer Harry had found a new appreciation in the art of Potions-he had hoped to continue learning about it through the school year.

His old dreams of being an Auror had faded since he had been Turned. His goal was still to become part of the Ministry of Magic if he could, but it no longer mattered to him whether that was in Law Enforcement or another department. It would have been nice, he supposed, to get into the exclusive Auror academies, but as dreams went it was a fairly small one.

"What do you think of your marks Harry?" Charles interrupted his musings on the future.

"I could do much better now, but last year was a difficult year and I think I did was well as I could have at the time," Harry said honestly. "I'm disappointed in Potions grade – I was definitely hoping to continue the subject this year."

"Are you actually disappointed or just a turn of phrase?" Charles asked.

Harry considered. "Disappointment is the emotion I _should_ be feeling; I have no actual emotional response to this news," he said after a moment, and Charles sighed slightly.

Harry pulled out the other documents in the envelope. The next one down showed a list of classes available to him at NEWT level.

_Astronomy – General_

_Care of Magical Creatures – Advanced or General_

_Charms – Advanced or General_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts – Advanced or General_

_Divination – General (Please note that Professors Trelawney and Firenze consider proper examination of your talents in this area to be impossible, thus the course is open to all students, regardless of whether they took Divination at OWL level, or how they performed)._

_Herbology – Advanced or General_

_History of Magic – General (Please note that although you received a fail grade in this subject, Professor Binns accepts all students for NEWT level classes, regardless of pass or fail grades in the OWL examinations.)_

_Political Studies_

_Potions – _Advanced

_Transfiguration – Advanced or General_

At the bottom of the page was a note from Professor McGonagall.

_Potter, I have managed to convince Professor Snape to accept you into his class, but this comes with added requests. You are to attend weekly after-hours potions lessons with Professor Snape, as well as hand in an extra essay each week for each one that you did not get an Outstanding in last year, and if he does not feel that you are performing on-par with the rest of the class, then he reserves the right to remove your from his class at any given time–if you get an Outstanding in the examinations at the end of your sixth year, then in Seventh year none of these conditions will continue to apply. If you fail, you will not be allowed to continue in the subject._

_Good luck in your career Potter; I've done what I can for you,_

_Professor M. McGonagall._

"Charles," he said softly, and handed his Sire the page.

"There you go then," Charles announced cheerfully, "You can do Potions after all. Are you still going to pursue a career as an Auror?"

"I'm not certain any more," Harry said with a shrug. "I would like to become a figure of some influence in the magical world; for more than just my defeat of Voldemort. I want to be able to speak out about the injustices that are being done – most specifically to our Vampire brethren – and be in a position to have some of that legislation changed. It's of no particular concern _how_ I manage to do that."

"I see," Charles nodded slightly. "If you want to keep up in Potions with these restrictions I would advise that you start on the assignments from last year before you return to school, it will help you keep on top of things once you get there."

"I was thinking the same thing," Harry nodded. "I'll owl Hermione and ask her if she still has a list of all the assignments, I think I may have lost a few over the year, or thrown them out in disgust."

"What other subjects do you think you'll take?" Charles asked him, and let Harry think about it for a little while.

"Well, I'll definitely need to take all the basics: Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions. I won't take Divination, it was a waste of time before and I don't think that's going to change. I don't think I'll take History of Magic either; the professor is extremely boring and I've barely learnt anything from him in the past."

"What about Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy and Herbology?" Charles promted.

"I'm less certain about those. Although Hagrid is a friend, he isn't the best teacher in the world. I think that I will learn enough about dangerous creatures if I simply continue to talk to him than I would in the class. Herbology would be good as so many plants go into Potions, although the subject itself doesn't particularly interest me. Astronomy … there's nothing really for or against it."

"And Political Studies?"

"I've never heard of the course, but depending on the teacher it could be really interesting," Harry allowed. "It would be a better course to cover what actually interests me in the History of Magic course I imagine."

Charles nodded thoughtfully. "I would suggest not taking Astronomy or Care of Magical Creatures, free your time up so that you can concentrate on the classes that will get you the farthest and still have time for Quidditch, socializing and any independent studies you may want to pursue."

Harry nodded his agreement, taking out pen and paper to draft a quick letter to McGonagall.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_You have my sincere thanks for speaking to Professor Snape on my behalf regarding Potions; I promise I will complete all assignments past and present to the best of my ability, you will not regret giving me this chance! In regards to the subjects I would like to take this year, could you please sign me up for:_

_Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Political Studies, Potions and Transfiguration?_

_Thank you again,_

_See you in September,_

_Harry Potter._

He went to show the letter to Charles, who shook his head. "You should no longer need my opinion on letters before sending them," his Sire told him. "I trust in your ability to word letters appropriately, in the future I would like you to share that trust. If you are drafting a particularly delicate letter and feel unsure of yourself, then by all means come to me."

Harry nodded. "I should probably send this immediately," he remarked, standing up. "Until tomorrow?"

"Until tomorrow, sleep well Harry."

"You too Charles," Harry returned, heading back to his room. He gave the letter to Hedwig, who took off immediately, then wrote out another letter to Hermione, asking her for the essays they had been supposed to work on for Potions the year before. He would get Kreacher to deliver the letter tomorrow.

His schooling for the next two years mostly organised, Harry pulled out his fifth year Potions textbook to read through. Even if he didn't have the essays just yet, it wouldn't hurt to start refreshing his memory now.

If everything went according to plan, Harry should have a fairly calm remainder of the holidays, aside from trying to finish all of the various projects he had started up at the Manor and getting everything ready for his return to Hogwarts.

As he turned off the light to go to sleep some hours later, he remembered that very little in his life had ever gone according to plan before.

* * *

Chapter Edited 21 October2008

This chapters question: As a half-vampire, do you think Harry should/would be able to have children?

Again, only minor changes.

WolfMoon


	11. Holiday's End

Disclaimer: not mine

Thanks: To my beta, who is, I think, still in hospital and therefore hasn't had a chance to fix this chapter for me. I will post the edited chapter when I can.

* * *

_**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**_

Chapter Eleven: Holiday's End

"Ron, I'm worried about Harry again," Hermione sighed, running her hands distractedly through her frizzy hair. They were sitting together on a couch in the living room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, a week after Kreacher had appeared in The Burrow to tell them that it was safe to return there.

Dumbledore had – needless to say – been very shocked. Kreacher's appearance meant that at the very least Harry knew the contents of his Godfather's Will, but could also mean that the Boy-Who-Lived had been present at the Will Reading and overheard the conversation that he and Remus had had there. It hurt, Dumbledore realised, to know that Harry might have been that close to him but hadn't chosen to show himself.

Once the initial shock had worn off, the Order had relocated to Grimmauld Place again, taking Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the Twins with them to continue with the cleaning work of the year before. Unlike the previous summer, though, Kreacher was proving a great help. Various things that were supposed to be thrown out still went missing, but they didn't re-appear in Kreacher's nest, which had been emptied of all important items before they had arrived again.

Kreacher removed the shrieking painting of Mrs Black from the wall in the hallway and relocated her in the attic, saying only that, "The Master is not wanting Old Mistress to be making such a noise!" He referred to Harry constantly now as his Master, and it was very clear that the elf was in contact with him on a reasonably regular basis, although he refused to confirm that, or answer any queries about Harry.

Most surprisingly, and gratifyingly, Kreacher had also stopped his constant insulting muttering about Blood Traitors and the like. He was, it seemed, a completely new elf, and the insanity that had plagued him seemed to be fading rapidly.

"What about him?" Ron asked, trying very hard to keep the resentment from his tone. He still saw Harry as his best friend, but he couldn't help but feel jealous when Hermione started talking about him in that wistful tone. The afternoon after their conversation about finding Harry through Tae-Kwon-Do he had gathered his courage and asked her out. To his surprise, she had said yes.

That had been almost a month ago, and things were going so well that Ron could hardly believe it. Except when she mentioned Harry, and he remembered how much more Harry had going for him: Boy Who Lived, gold, Tri-Wizard Champion and all the rest.

"He isn't writing to us nearly as much any more," Hermione said sadly, "We've hardly from him since before his birthday, and when he does write he doesn't sound … _right_ any more, like he's moving away from us. Have you noticed?"

"Not really," Ron shrugged. "I mean, we haven't been writing to him as much either. He's probably just got other things to be doing. Maybe he's got a girlfriend, or he's just hanging out with other people over the summer since he isn't here with us." Although he didn't say, Ron found the prospect of Harry having other friends almost as painful as the thought that Hermione might want Harry more than she wanted him.

"I suppose," Hermione said doubtfully. "Professor McGonagall said she'd been in contact with him regarding his OWLs last week, but he still hasn't responded to the letter I sent with our results and asking for his!"

"Hermione, I don't think he cares about his results that much," Ron pointed out. He chose not to mention that he agreed with Harry; Hermione should know that well enough all ready.

"He's always humoured me in the past," Hermione sighed. "I'm just …I think I made a mistake not telling the Order about the Tae-Kwon-Do. I think something is _really_ wrong with Harry."

"Hermione," Ron spoke gently, "You did the right thing, and you did what Harry would have wanted. He's told McGonagall that he'll be coming to Hogwarts this year; he's picked his classes and everything! I know it was kind of disturbing for him to want a list of all the Potions assignments from last year, but we can ask him what's going on with that when we're on the Express together."

"I still think I-"

"Hermione, I looked into that Dojang thing," Ron interrupted her. "There are a lot more of them I think you realised; enough that it would probably take months to check all of them to see if Harry was there, unless you got really, really lucky."

"Months?" Hermione asked.

"Well, we have limited resources – the Order members are struggling to keep on top of everything, and now that the Ministry has pulled out of the search for Harry that leaves very little manpower for large scale searches," Ron explained.

"As far as the Ministry is concerned, Harry is alive and well, and he has had a meeting with the Minister himself. I know Dumbledore doesn't like the new Minister much, but he was in Law Enforcement, I think he would have known if Harry was under any spell. He thought that Harry was a 'surprising young man' and that he 'seemed to be in perfect health and happiness". It's all going to be ok love, Harry's fine."

Hermione sighed, nestling against his chest. "I'm sorry Ron; I didn't mean to make you jealous talking about Harry … it's just not like him to be like this. Last year, sure he was angry, but now he just seems cold."

Ron hugged her, "Maybe he's just growing up," he offered, kissing her to distract her from worrying about Harry.

* * *

_Mr Potter,_

_Thank you for your prompt reply with your selections for classes for the upcoming year. I believe these will choices will open the types of paths you would like to follow in the future and have signed you up for all of them. Please find enclosed a copy of the text books you will require for these subjects._

_I would also like to congratulate you, as you are my choice for Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year. Please find enclosed your Captains badge and a list of privileges you will get as the holder of this position. Please speak with me or Madam Hooch regarding booking the Quidditch pitch for team practices._

_On a less professional note, I fully expect you to win the Quidditch Cup this year; I have grown fond of seeing it my office. Should Professor Snape try to give the advantage to the Slytherin team and change practice times around, please contact me so I can set him straight._

_I look forward to seeing you on September 1__st__, Potter._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry read through the letter from his Head of House; it had been arrived with Hedwig just days after Harry had sent her to Hogwarts – or Grimmauld Place – with his choices for the upcoming two years at school. His lips quirked in a small smile at being made Captain; he was sure he would appreciate the honour more once Charles found a way to fix what Voldemort had done to him.

He took the letter to Charles straight away, and they took a quick trip to the magical shopping area in Glasgow and bought all of the things on Harry's list for the school year, plus a number of other things that Charles decided were absolutely necessary.

The last month of the summer holidays proved much busier than the start had been, and Harry gradually grew used to miming emotion so that when he arrived at Hogwarts, he would be able to pretend – with the people who didn't know him, anyway – that nothing had changed. Harry thought that only Ron and Hermione were all that likely to notice the changes in him.

"I think that my best option is to point that people change, and that I realised how acting rashly got Sirius killed," Harry said to Charles one afternoon; they were trying to make sure he had his story straight once he got to Hogwarts, it wouldn't do to slip up.

"That should be enough to keep those who don't know you well satisfied, do you think it will appease your close friends though?"

"How many of them have ever lost the only parental figure in their life?" Harry asked with a small smile and a shrug of his shoulders. "My close friends have absolutely no idea what I went through when Sirius died, and everyone responds to grief differently. They haven't seen me all summer, it's plausible enough. It should be easy to direct conversations away from that line of questioning though, if I need to."

"You really are getting much more Slytherin in your thinking," Charles said proudly and Harry gave another smile.

"Now that I see the advantages, I think I will remain as Slytherin as possible. As you've pointed out, to be truly Slytherin is to be ambitious but cunning, staying out of the limelight and moving in the shadows to achieve your goals, which seem like far more admirable goals now that I think about them properly. I was letting my dislike for certain members of the House cloud my judgement in the past. Also, rushing in with blind confidence and courage hasn't really worked too well for me before," he pointed out. "Thinking things through has made this summer progress very well."

"I'm glad you think so. Have you decided what you are going to tell your friends about the rest of your summer? Where you were, what you were doing?" Charles asked.

"I have thought about it; I've decided that the simplest thing is to tell them that for the moment it is to remain a secret and I will speak of it when I'm ready. I will ask them not to keep bringing it up, and say that I will tell them when I'm ready," Harry said.

"You think they will accept that? Your friends are very loyal to you Harry."

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me whether they accept it or not," he told his Sire. "That is all I am prepared to tell them; so long as I stick to that, then I won't slip up and give away things I didn't want to."

Charles sighed. "I hope you don't lose your friends over this Harry. You may not care now, but you will in the future."

His only response was another shrug. "If things go south the way I am now, when I get my emotions back I'm sure that we will be able to rebuild the fences," Harry said, standing up and stretching. "If you'll excuse me, I still have a lot of work to get through; I should probably get to it."

Harry did indeed have a lot of things to do; he was juggling his time between re-doing all of his Potions assignments – with some help from Charles – practicing Tae-Kwon-Do, spell casting, silent casting, making Potions, flying and trying to deal with all the things that Kreacher was bringing back from Grimmauld Place.

When it came to dealing with the artefacts of the 'Noble' and Most Ancient House of Black, Harry went to Charles at almost every turn. Kreacher spent most of the last month bringing new items on an almost daily basis. Harry had a lot of it destroyed or discarded after long arguments with Kreacher that generally wound up as compromises.

In return for Harry allowing him to keep a photo of the young Black daughters – Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa – Kreacher gave up all of his old Master and Mistress's clothes, and a pen which, when used, wrote a suicide note from the user and then killed them. The adition of repairing the broken frame the picture was housed in helped to cement Kreacher's loyalty.

"I feel I should congratulate you again on your dealings with the elf," Charles remarked when Harry handed the pen over to him for destruction. Harry flopped into a chair, exhausted after a nearly two hour long battle with Kreacher. "You treat house elves exceptionally decently, even for a Potter."

"Kreacher still wants to keep pictures of Bellatrix and Narcissa, which is proof enough that his loyalties remain undecided," Harry said, "The better I treat him, and the leeway I give him – within reason – should convince him that his loyalties are better placed with me. I do not want him to betray me as he did Sirius, and I would prefer not to have to kill him to prevent that.

"It is my hope that, over time, he will not feel the need to cling to the belongings of the Death Eaters in the Black family, and will be completely loyal to me. My treatment of him during these early stages will, I hope, influence him to trust me."

"I had thought that was your reasoning," Charles nodded. "An insane house elf is a danger, but a reformed one would, I imagine, be even more loyal than normal ones."

"That is my hope," Harry nodded. "Having a very dedicated selection of friends and servants will be very important if I am to do what I must."

* * *

A frantic knock on Harry's door two weeks before he returned to Hogwarts dragged his attention away from the Potions essay he was writing. He was doing a good job with them, he thought; he was almost half way through the year's assignments now, and he could tell that the quality of his work was a lot better than it had been the year before.

He opened the door to find Charles standing, breathing slightly heavily, looking as though he might have actually run all the way to Harry's room. "Harry, the Councillors have returned with their verdict on Voldemort's proposed alliance; get changed and come with me, you should hear this too."

Harry didn't waste time in replying, he closed the door in Charles' face, changed his clothes as rapidly as he could into the most respectable things he could reach easily in his wardrobe and ran a wet comb through his hair; it had grown out even further since his birthday and now fell to his shoulders. The added weight had turned his previous messy hair into almost-tamed locks.

He gave himself a once over in the mirror and decided that this was as presentable as he could become in the short time he had, and hurried back to the door to join Charles. "Main dining room?" he asked his Sire, who nodded, and they set off and a brisk but too hurried pace. Charles straightened his clothes as they walked; it wouldn't do to look at all dishevelled in front of these guests.

The same three councillors that Harry had met the first time, Julia, Anne-Marie and Roberto, where waiting in the dining room, already seated and sipping delicately at the wine provided by the house elves. "Mr Potter, Master Potter," Anne-Marie greeted them.

"Councillors," Harry and his Sire responded, offering them short bows from the waist before taking their seats.

"We promised that we would let you know as soon as we made a decision regarding Lord Voldemort's proposed alliance," Anne-Marie said, "We gave him our response yesterday. As of this point in time, the vampire council's official standing on this matter is neutral. We have informed Lord Voldemort that we see no need to involve ourselves in human conflict at present, but that our stance may change in the future.

"For your ears alone; the council is in favour of giving our support to you, Harry. Should you need our assistance with any matter, whether it is regarding the war or not, we hope that you will turn to us. We will certainly do our best to help. But if it looks like Voldemort is going to win, we _will_ throw our support behind him, in the hopes of not being eradicated."

"Please convey my thanks to the Council for choosing to support me," Harry said quietly, after a look from Charles told him it was his time to speak. "I am honoured that you would give me this chance to prove myself to my new people. I have already started implementing my plans to get vampires a better position in our world – I have approached the Minister of Magic, at present merely to make myself known to him and to begin building a support base there.

"He has already given me his promise that he will take any suggestions I might choose to give him under consideration, when myself and Charles consider the time is ripe, I will suggest to him that he change legislation regarding vampires, and propose his own alliance to you in an effort to deny Voldemort further supporters. Would you consider such an alliance with him?"

Anne-Marie conferred briefly with her two companions before answering. "That would depend largely upon what concessions he would be willing to grant us," she told him, "At the very least the laws regarding penalities for killing vampires will need to be changed. We will want them to be increased to the same level as murdering a wizard. Also see if you can get his permission to use blood from Muggle blood banks as food – we already do from time to time of course, but it would be nice if it were legal."

Harry nodded. "I will do my best. Depending on how he takes my suggestions, I may even try to set up a similar system to the blood bank in the magical world, so that people who are willing can donate their blood to vampires. I don't imagine there will be a _lot_ of takers, but you never know."

The councillors nodded. "We will give our promise to carefully weigh any alliance from the Ministry of Magic then, although we will not promise to accept it out of hand."

"That is all I ask," Harry said, smiling. "I hope that I will be able to make a move on this front in the New Year – there is a lot I need to do to prove that the Minister should listen to me before I can make suggestions like that."

"Of course – you are only one child, however famous you are. We do not expect you turn centuries worth of distrust and hatred around in the space of a few short months," Roberto told him. "In fact, we are less than certain that you will be able to do anything towards that goal. We merely believe that the war is too balanced for us to pick a side as yet."

Harry got the impression that Roberto did not particularly like him, and hadn't been in favour of supporting him, but decided that the best way to win the older vampire over would be with actions, rather than words. Once he had done some regarding getting vampires a better standing, he got the feeling that Roberto would be at least slightly warmer towards him.

* * *

A week before his return to Hogwarts, Harry was starting to feel almost stressed by the work load he had undertaken. The essays for Snape were taking longer than he expected, but nearly a month of working almost exclusively on them and he was almost done with all the assignments from the previous year.

He had had to cut down his flying time to just an hour or so every day so that he would be able to complete all of the assignments in time to start the year. He didn't want to start with a year's worth of homework for Potions taking up all of his time, and knowing Snape, the Potions Master wouldn't ask for the assignments in the same order that he had the previous year. Harry was determined to have as much time as possible for his extra-curricular activities.

He hadn't seen as much of Charles as he might have liked; but not spending several hours of every day playing chess with his Sire gave him more time for his other work. He was still trying to get through all of the books that he was reading on Defence Against the Dark Arts, curses, vampires, politics and historical wars, although he had given up on the thought of actually succeeding at that particular task.

As often as possible, he and Charles would practice Tae-Kwon-Do together, although Harry was getting quite good at working on it by himself now as well. He had also mastered silent casting to a more than acceptable degree, and as Charles had reminded him, he would have plenty of opportunity to improve on that front during the school year.

His next biggest project was continuing to sort out everything at Grimmauld Place remotely via Kreacher. The house elf was improving daily, his sanity was returning and with it his desire to tend to Harry's desires. He had brought all of the dark or grey artefacts to Potter Mansion from Grimmauld Place, and these were being sorted and stored slowly sorted through by Charles and – to a lesser extent – Harry.

Kreacher was now a much cleaner elf, and was apparently washing the rags that he wore; he no longer looked and smelled anywhere near as revolting as he had previously, and one day presented Harry with his picture of the Black daughters, muttering that Harry should keep it as a reminder of his ties to the Black family, which Harry took as a very good sign of Kreacher's increasingly loyalty to him.

On the rare occasion that Harry thought of his friends in the Order, he wondered what Hermione thought of the improvements in Kreacher, and wondered just how annoyed she would be with him for having a house elf. He also wondered what the old house looked like now; Kreacher had apparently been doing an exhaustive amount of cleaning, with some assistance from the Weasley clan and the other occupants.

The _Daily Prophet_ was reporting a gradually increasing number of attacks from Voldemort as the summer progressed, from which Harry and Charles reluctantly deduced that Voldemort was gaining strength.

"I wonder what would happen if he were to try and use the Carcer de Mallus on me again," Harry said aloud one afternoon, in one of his and Charles increasingly infrequent meals together. "Being partially Turned saved me last time, but if I had already been a vampire when I became trapped there, I wonder if it would have actually worked."

Charles tilted his head slightly to one side and considered. "It's a very good question. Rather than vampirism giving you the ability to survive that place, it was possibly the fact that your mind and physical state were altered while you were inside that actually freed you."

"That was my thought. Do you think he would use it on me again once he regains his strength? Thanks to the Minister he knows that I'm actually still alive, and he will have already realised that I'm not under his control at all."

"I would consider him unlikely to risk it. He failed to use it on you once, and as he doesn't know the specifics of how you escaped, I doubt he would try it again. Trying to trap you in it again would – as far as he's aware – just give you more information regarding it. He will know the legend, that only one who has survived the Carcer can destroy it, and he knows now that you are the first such person in history."

"Do you think he would use it all then?"

"He might have given up on it as a lost cause now that he knows you are capable of destroying it," Charles allowed. "But I would not count on that. Besides, even if he no longer means to use it, its influence on the world has been re-awoken and we will all still have to deal with the consequences of that."

"Perhaps when I start giving interviews, I could drop hints about surviving and critically damaging a weapon that Voldemort tried to use against me," Harry mused. "Try to lead Voldemort to believe that the Carcer is already broken."

Charles nodded, "A good idea. Don't go too overboard though; you need it to be believable if you are going to convince Voldemort that you aren't having him on."

"I will do my best to be discreet. Using the press as a weapon might be a useful path to investigate, again, very discreetly."

"The press is a very dangerous weapon, and it's the sort of thing that will turn on you at a moments notice, never forget that," Charles reminded him sternly, and Harry nodded. He knew what the press was like; he'd had enough exposure to it over the past years. "On another matter," Charles continued, "I'm sorry I haven't been spending much time with you these past few weeks, I have been chasing a theory for getting your emotions back, I didn't want to get your hopes up by saying anything though."

Harry gave a slightly twisted smile, "What hope?" he asked.

"Point," Charles nodded. "Anyway, I think I've found a potion that will, with a few adjustments, be able to fix what Voldemort did your mind. It will probably take me about three or four months to brew the potion and make the changes that are necessary for it; once I've done that, it will be a matter of the taking the potion every day for at least two months, maybe three."

"And then everything will be back the way it was before?"

"Not exactly the way it was before; I would hope that the changes you've made in your thinking habits will remain as they are now when you get access to your emotions back again. But yes, everything that was damaged will be repaired."

"Good," Harry nodded. "So it will take most of the next year, but by the end of it I'll be right again."

"I hope so," Charles smiled.

* * *

Finally, the morning of September the First dawned. Harry came awake in an unfamiliar room at the crack of down; it took him a few seconds to remember that they'd made the exhaustive drive from Glasgow to London the day before and had stayed the night in an upmarket hotel only a few minutes walk from Kings Cross.

Harry rose almost immediately; his body was full of energy and the Blood Stone around his neck was pulsing brightly and rapidly. Lucy had insisted on Harry feeding the day before, to make sure that he was at full strength when he got to school, in case there were any emergencies.

After a quick shower he dressed in his Muggle clothes for the walk to Kings Cross that he would make later; his school robes were easily accessible in his trunk for when he got on the train. A once-over of the room assured him that all of his belongings were packed and he was ready to make the trip back to Hogwarts.

In the room next door, Charles was also up, but Harry had the sneaking suspicion that his Sire hadn't actually slept the night before. When he entered the room, Charles was reading a massive old tome, delicately flicking through the pages.

"Still researching that potion you think will cure me?" Harry asked, and was amused to see Charles start slightly. It wasn't easy to sneak up on a vampire, but Charles had evidently been highly absorbed by the book he was reading.

"Yes," Charles closed the book very gently and put it carefully aside. "The more I know when I start experimenting with the potion, the higher my chance of an early success, and then you'll be cured all the faster. But enough of that, I'll stay in contact with you and let you know my progress over the school year, of course. This morning is for more pleasant things."

"Goodbyes are pleasant things?" Harry queried.

"No, but sharing meals over games of chess are," Charles grinned waving a hand. The table that they always played chess at appeared, along with the chairs from Potter manor and a feast that could have only been prepared by Lucy and the house elves. "I organised the spell for this before we left, I thought you might appreciate it."

"A perfect way to spend the morning," Harry agreed, taking his seat behind the white players. He had won a couple more games against Charles now, but it was still a very rare thing, and so he still always played white. He and Charles played chess and talked of inconsequential things until just past ten.

"We should probably get you to the station now," Charles sighed, checking his watch.

Harry glanced at the window, through the heavy curtains he could easily see how glaring the sun was going to be outside. "Perhaps it would be easier to say good bye here?" he suggested diplomatically. Even sunblock and long sleeves wouldn't be enough to make the trip to the station bearable for the full-blooded vampire.

"I would not miss saying a proper goodbye to my grandson for all the world," Charles told him with a slight frown. "You do not need to protect me, Harry. It's _my_ job to protect_ you_."

"Alright then," Harry nodded. Wilfred collected his trunk, and the three of them walked around the corner together, Wilfred hanging back slightly with the luggage to give Harry and Charles a final chance to say goodbye. "I'll keep in touch, of course, and let you know what happens with Dumbledore and the Order and the Ministry and all of that stuff."

"You had better, I will come to Hogwarts looking for you," Charles warned. "Do what you can to make sure you'll be able to come home when you need to feed so that we can take care of that privately. I'm sure you can convince Dumbledore that you need to do so."

Harry nodded slightly. He could see Charles' skin already beginning to redden, though his Sire made no complaint about the sunlight. A few seconds later and they were stepping inside Kings Cross station; Harry just caught his Sire's sigh of relief to be out of the glare, but didn't comment on it.

"I will leave you here – don't want too many questions about me being raised," Charles said quietly as Wilfred put the trunk down. "You will be fine to get to the platform and onto the train I presume?"

"Of course," Harry nodded.

"Then take care," Charles said, and the two of them hugged briefly.

"You'll see me again before you know what's happened," Harry promised his Sire, before turning to Wilfred. "Thanks," he said, gesturing awkwardly in the direction of his trunk. Since the incident with the Carcer de Mallus, he had found it difficult to deal with the human servants at Potter manor; everything he said to them came out stilted and awkward.

"You're welcome Master Harry," Wilfred and Lucy had been overly accommodating; especially once they had the situation explained fully to them. They gave him the space he needed and didn't push at him to try harder to be 'normal'. They knew that he dismissed them easily because he didn't emotionally connect to them, and knew that in time it would be fixed.

For a moment they hovered there together, awkward and out of place, then Harry gave a sharp nod and turned away, pulling his trunk easily behind him as he made his way to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. He passed through the barrier easily and found himself on a nearly empty platform facing the scarlet Hogwarts Express.

He crossed the open space quickly; glad to have avoided the crowd. He would find somewhere reasonably out of the way to settle in for the ride to Hogwarts. The longer he could wait before having to deal with the students who knew him, the better. He wasn't sure if he would be able to keep up the façade of normality with them, and he would rather have as much time to mentally prepare himself as possible.

He took the compartment at the very end of the train, changed into his robes and took out his sixth year potions book, settling down to read. All of his other subjects were likely to progress through the course texts in a reasonably linear fashion; Snape would probably jump them off the deep end, especially in regards to Harry.

While he read, he was vaguely aware of the platform outside filling with people; the noise level was horrendous, and a quick glance out the windows told Harry that families were escorting their children to the train in as large a group as possible, probably fearing that Voldemort would attack the high profile target.

The _Daily Prophet_ had made mention of extra security measures being in place on the train this year, after a lot of concerned parents had gotten owled the Ministry and the _Prophet_ office to enquire about the safety of the children. The measures seemed to consist of Aurors patrolling the train, and a full squad of hit wizards mounted on brooms and watching from the air, just in case.

As eleven o'clock neared the crowd on the platform decreased at least slightly, as more and more the children got onto the trains, but none of the adults seemed inclined to get off the platform, even the ones who probably couldn't see the train or their children through the mass of bodies.

Harry quietly reflected that he was glad to have arrived early and been aboard well ahead of the madness outside. He considered that if Voldemort wanted to make a statement, attacking the crowd of parents would be a much better idea than going for the train; most of children wouldn't a threat to him for years, if they ever were.

Soon after, the train was in motion, pulling slowly away from the platform and then gathering speed. Harry stood to return his Potions book to his bag and took out the Snitch instead, absently releasing it and then catching it; it was time to prepare himself mentally for meeting all the people who he was supposed to consider friends, and start the intricate dance that would hopefully convince them that any changes he couldn't hide were due to strictly _normal_ reasons.

He started running through all of the things that he was – or wasn't – going to tell his friends, along with different vocal inflections and the facial expressions he would have to use in every day communication. The task of pretending nothing – or not much – had changed had seemed a lot less daunting when he was going over it with Charles in the comfort of manor, where his emotions at least recognised someone.

While he was carefully reminding himself of everything he would need to keep in mind on a constant basis, he spared a moment to wonder who would find him first: his best friends, a neutral party or one of his enemies.

* * *

Last edited 21 October 2008

Minor changes only, again.

Question: Would you like to see Draco Malfoy and assorted other Slytherin's coming to Harry's side and leaving the Dark Lord, or keep them as the adolescent anti-heroes?

Thanks for reading!

WolfMoon


	12. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Apology: To my knowledge my beta hasn't returned from hospital yet. Sorry in advance for any errors in this chapter.

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter 12: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

The train journey had been going for almost ten minutes before Harry's compartment was disturbed. Harry's hand snapped out and captured the Snitch, his head already turning as he heard the sounds of people approaching the compartment door.

As the compartment door slid open, Harry's green eyes were focused intently on it, his mind once more reviewing all the necessities of conversation: _smile a lot, laugh when it seems appropriate, keep your attention on the person speaking even if you're bored._

As he recognised the blond haired boy who was standing in the door, Harry relaxed his hand. Malfoy. The Slytherin was probably going to be the easiest person to converse with, as he wouldn't need to smile, laugh _or_ pay attention to him when he got boring.

"Who are you?" Malfoy seemed surprised and faintly curious. Harry mused that he must have changed more than he thought, if Malfoy didn't recognise him. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me," Draco shook himself and fell into the routine of the perfect Pureblood. Evidently he saw Harry as someone he should impress. "My name is Draco Malfoy, I don't believe we've met." He stepped forward and held out a hand to shake.

Harry shook it firmly. "Good morning Draco Malfoy," he said, in equally polite tones, "We have met, actually, although I have … changed a lot since our last conversation." Letting go of Malfoy's hands, he reached up to push his sunglasses up to rest on top his head, revealing his scar as he did so.

He smiled slightly as Malfoy stepped back, his pleasant demeanour vanishing instantly. "Potter," he spat.

"Malfoy. We're back to last names then?" Harry enquired, still polite. That put Malfoy on the wrong foot and gave Harry a chance to examine his two companions. Oddly, the hulking forms of Grabbe and Goyle were nowhere in sight; instead, Draco was being flanked by two other Slytherin boys.

One of them was shorter, with dirty blond hair and a slightly weedy appearance. Harry vaguely remembered his name as being Theodore Nott, and thought that the boy was one of the few students who had been able to see Thestrals the year before.

Malfoy's other companion was a tall, aristocratic black boy. His name was Blaise Zabini, although Harry only knew him as the person who was all last when teacher's called the register. Blaise had never been one to take part in the general bickering that went on between Slytherin and Gryffindor; he preferred to stay on the sidelines and watch.

"So Potter, you aren't dead. What a pity the Minister wasn't lying when he said you were alive and well," Malfoy drawled.

Harry gave a theatrical sigh, "And now we're back to exchanging childish insults, as well as using last names?" he asked, noting that he managed to pull of a very disappointed tone. "Well, not so much an exchange, considering I don't intend on taking part."

If Harry's eyes didn't deceive him, the Zabini boy was trying very hard to conceal a smile, and possibly laughter. Nott just looked surprised and slightly angry. Evidently Malfoy's new lackeys were more intelligent than his previous pair, Grabbe and Goyle would have met that comment with blank looks rather than understanding.

Malfoy looked slightly taken aback by Harry's response. "You've changed, Potter," he noted.

"From all appearances, you haven't. Not a Prefect any more?"

"Why would I want to go back to being a Prefect under Dumbledore's administration? Professor Umbridge had a much better approach. I resigned from my post," Malfoy informed him loftily. "I notice Dumbledore didn't take pity on you and give you the post this year either? Is Weasel really still the Gryffindor Prefect?"

Harry gave pretended to cough to cover a laugh. "Well I suppose being 'just' a Prefect would make it harder for you bully students, the Inquisitorial Squad must have been much more up your alley. I don't know why you were ever appointed Prefect to start with; you obviously aren't an icon of ideal Slytherin values."

"What the hell do you mean by that Potter?"

"I mean as far as I've seen, you're a bullying imbecile," Harry told him, keeping his tone unwaveringly polite, "Slytherin's are supposed to value cunning and ambition. What's your ambition? To become yet another bootlicker of Voldemort's, a follower who will be tortured or killed without remorse or thought if you don't bow deep enough? And really, you, cunning? Don't make me laugh. You're too stuck up on petty insults and even pettier shows of power which get you precisely nowhere."

Malfoy was getting redder and redder by the second; Nott, on the other hand was deadly pale and looked _furious_. Zabini was leaning against the doorway, his calculating eyes offset by a faintly amused smirk. Nott got the first word in. "How dare you use the Dark Lords name? Your blasphemous lips are not deserving of his chosen name!"

Harry just arched an eyebrow at him, "Right," he drawled.

"The Dark Lord rewards those who offer him faithful service," Malfoy added superciliously, "My father failed, but I will succeed and he will reward me above all of his other followers. He will be served by only the greatest the magical world has to offer, and I am one of his chosen!" Harry noticed the idolizing look that Nott directed at Malfoy at the last words.

"I was under the impression that _Voldemort_ was searching for allies in the giants, the werewolves the dementors; the dregs of the magical world, dismissed by you and your pureblood mania for centuries. I thought you would prefer to avoid being associated with them."

"Our Lord will use such lesser creatures to his advantage," Nott snarled. "They will serve their purpose and be destroyed as they should been centuries ago when they have outlived their usefulness to his cause."

"As will you," Harry pointed out, feeling like he was banging his head against a brick wall; he was determined, though, to try and at least make the Slytherin's hear him this year, they didn't deserve the fates they would suffer if they joined their 'Dark Lord'. "Join his ranks and you will eventually be destroyed for no greater reason than that your death amuses him."

"You don't know what you speak of, Potter. The Dark Lord has promised us greatness."

"You and your lackey there are polluting the air with your stupidity; you acknowledge that Voldemort will destroy the giants and werewolves once he has used them, if you can't see that he will do the same to you, then you deserve the rewards you will get for following him: an early death at his hands, or those of the Aurors, or a lifetime in Azkaban with your father."

"When the Dark Lord is triumphant, I will be at his side and watch him break you Potter!" Malfoy was practically spitting.

"If that's what you want to believe, go ahead. But please go believe it elsewhere; I've used up my patience for idiocy today. Our rivalry stands, apparently, but I would suggest you look at the past, Malfoy, and actually use the mind I'm sure you have. Look at what following Voldemort has brought for others."

Harry saw Malfoy reaching for his wand, and before the Slytherin even knew what was happening, Harry was on his feet and standing in front of him, "I wouldn't Malfoy," he said, voice soft and dangerous. His own wand was out, but held easily at his side.

Malfoy stepped back, evidently shocked at how fast Harry had moved. "Get out, Malfoy," Harry ordered. Malfoy, Nott and Zabini moved back into the hall, letting the compartment door shut firmly behind them. The last thing Harry saw before it finished closing was Zabini's amused, calculating eyes.

* * *

It was nearly half an hour before Ron and Hermione found him. Harry heard them approaching long before they reached him; he had left the door propped slightly open so that he could hear what was going on outside his compartment.

No one else had joined him since Malfoy had left; a few people had glanced in, but they'd all gone elsewhere very quickly. Harry could only assume that they didn't recognise him, and felt threatened by him. Finally, though, he heard his friends approaching.

"We haven't seen him yet, what if he's not on the train," Hermione's fretful voice was the first he heard.

"He'll be here, we just haven't found him yet," Ron's tone was reassuring, with an undercurrent of doubt that Hermione must have caught.

"We're nearly to the end of the train," Ginny's voice came next, "Maybe he was running late and had trouble finding a place to sit? If he isn't in any of the last compartments then we'll have to owl ahead and let Dumbledore know."

"He's got to be here," Hermione sounded slightly desperate as she slid the compartment door open. All three of them stopped dead in the doorway.

Harry assessed his friends. He hadn't bothered to pay much attention to them at the Will reading, so he took the opportunity now to take in how they had changed. All three of them had grown taller, much as he had. Where Harry's changes over the summer had made him more sophisticated and even elegant, the opposite seemed to hold true for Ron.

Ron had grown another several inches, and still towered over Harry. His hair had grown out slightly, becoming messier as it did, and he had bright red fluff dusted across his cheeks. His gangly limbs looked more awkward than anything, and his robes, while the newest that Harry had ever seen him wear, where already on their way to being outgrown.

Hermione and Ginny both looked much more mature; their figures had filled out and Hermione's hair looked longer and neater than he had ever seen it. In contrast, Ginny had cut hers to shoulder length and looked like she was wearing make up, though Hermione wasn't.

While he took in their changed appearances stoically, their reactions were much more obvious: they gaped. Finally, Hermione took a slight step forward, "Harry?" she asked, unsure.

Harry barely remembered to flash her a smile, "Hi Hermione, how was your summer? Ginny, Ron," he nodded in their directions, waiting for them to get over their shock.

While Ron and Ginny continued to stare at him, Hermione strode straight across the room and slapped Harry hard across the face. Harry rubbed the cheek she had hit and stared down at her in surprise. "What was that for?" he asked, faintly surprised that his voice actually came out sounding petulant; he hadn't actually considered his tone when he had asked the question. He made a mental note to tell Charles in a letter later; he wasn't sure it was important, but his Sire would want to know.

"_That_ was for not telling us where you were all summer! _That_ was for not coming to look for us earlier! _That_ was for making me lie to Dumbledore! _That_ was for trusting the Minister and not your friends! _That_ was for coming to Sirius' Will reading and not talking to us!" Hermione was shaking, although he wasn't sure that it was from anger.

Her shaky hold on her emotions was enough to get through to Ron, who walked into the compartment and wrapped his arms around her. She turned to bury her head against his shoulder, it sounded like she might have burst into tears. Harry cocked his head slightly to one side and considered them.

It was obvious something had happened between them; the embrace was more than just friendly, so they must have become romantically involved, although neither of them had mentioned it to him. The romance would be a good thing, Harry decided, because it would draw their attention more towards each other than him, so his job of convincing them that he was still the same person would be made easier.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do mate," Ron told him coldly over his – apparent – girlfriend's head.

"I suppose I do," Harry said agreeably. "Please come in, sit down," he waited for them to sit down and closed the compartment door behind them before taking his own seat. Harry paused, looking across at the three people who were his oldest friends, and wondered how to start.

"So, are you going to tell us where you've been all summer?" Hermione asked in a business like fashion when Harry didn't start talking for a little too long. Her tone said she had complete faith that he was going to tell her everything she wanted to know.

"I was staying with a good friend in Scotland," Harry said, "His name is Charles, I met him in the first week of the holidays."

"That's hardly an answer Harry," Hermione pointed out as diplomatically as possible; Ron looked ready to start yelling.

"The house is hidden through a number of privacy charms and wards," Harry explained. "I cannot speak of its location." _And even if I could, I wouldn't, not yet._

"Then what about this … Charles person? When did you meet him, and how could you possibly come to trust him so fast?"

"I met him when he saved my life. He suggested I might do better at coping with Sirius's death and everything else that had been happening if I came to live with him, and he was right."

"Aren't you going to elaborate?"

"I wasn't planning on it, no," Harry said with a shrug.

"That's not good enough Harry," Ginny exploded; she'd been staring at him intently ever since they had arrived at the compartment. "You've been gone all summer, just vanished off the face of the earth; you can't seriously expect us to just ignore the fact that you've been gone!"

"Yes I do," Harry made his tone as stern as he could, "The location is hidden and Charles values his privacy. I trust him, and I was happy. I hoped that knowledge would be enough for you, because I'm not ready to say anything more."

"Ginny's right, that's not good enough," Ron told Harry coldly.

Harry shrugged. "That's your call. If you can't accept that I can't – or don't want to – share everything that happened this summer, then you can't. I'm not going to try and make you. I would prefer it if you would accept that I'll tell you as much as I'm comfortable to, which will grow over time, but if you can't then that's a consequence that I have to live with."

That statement seemed to shock his oldest friends so much that they couldn't even yell at him. Harry decided that he'd better continue talking now, while they were letting him. "A lot of things happened this summer, some good and some not, and I've changed because of them. I would like to be friends with you still, but for that friendship to work, you're going to have to accept that this summer is my secret, and I won't elaborate until I'm ready. Not all the secrets are mine to tell."

"So that's it? You met someone this summer and suddenly you don't care if we're your friends?" Ron demanded.

"I do care," Harry told him as earnestly as he could manage, _Or I will, when Charles figures out this cure_, "I want to be friends, but I'm not going to tell you everything that happened. If you want to ask me questions, you can, and I might answer some of them, but not all. If I say I'm not going to answer something, then I'm not going to, so don't push me."

The expression on Ron's face was a curious mix of bafflement, hurt and anger; Hermione and Ginny's weren't much different. "You're right mate, you've changed. We've been waiting all summer to see you again, but now I kind of wish you'd stayed gone. We're your friends, and last year we were all doing our best to put with your mood swings and crap; then you vanish over summer and come back saying that you aren't going to tell us anything about what happened to you, and that if we can't just accept that then you don't want to be friends.

"That's not how friendship works. You used to trust us; you used to tell us what was happening. We've been your friends for years and we deserve to know what's happening in your life. We aren't just going to say 'Oh, you've been gone for months and we've been worried about you, but we're going to pretend it didn't happen and move on'. We deserve better than that."

Harry sighed. This wasn't going as well as he had wanted it to; he wasn't sure how much of that was because of his emotional detachment leaving him hard pressed to use the right words. He had planned on keeping close to Ron and Hermione, on the basis that when he got his emotions back he would want to be around them, but at present he really didn't care at all.

"I'm not in a position right now where I am prepared to tell you what happened over the summer," Harry addressed Ron slowly, "I'm sorry if you can't deal with that, but that is how it has to be. If you need time, then take it."

At that, Ron blew up, "So suddenly someone else is suddenly more important than we are? Fine! Go running to him next time you need help in one of your stupid dangerous schemes, or the next time you need help saving your damn godfather! I'm not going to risk my life for someone who can't trust me. Come on Hermione, Ginny," Ron stood up and stormed out of the compartment, Ginny following immediately. For a moment, Hermione hovered, uncertain, but she followed her new boyfriend, as Harry had known she would

Harry watched the compartment door sliding shut behind them and frowned. That was not how he had expected that conversation to end, but he supposed they had a right to be angry with him. Maybe they would calm down soon, and when they had would be able to accept how things were with him now.

He pulled some parchment and a quill out of his bag and settled down to begin a letter to Charles. Already the lack of his Sire was an ache in his stomach; he wanted to talk to Charles about what had just happened, but since he couldn't he would have to simply write it all in a letter.

He was interrupted part way through when the compartment door slid open again. Neville and Luna walked in without waiting for an invitation and sat down. Harry looked at them calmly, wondering what they were doing here.

"Ginny told us what happened with you, Ron and Hermione," Neville began, "I kind of get where they're coming from, but if you don't want to talk, then that's your business. I'm sure they'll remember how much they value being your friends soon."

"I hope so," Harry said, voice filled with false sincerity.

"No you don't," Luna surprised him by saying, and both he and Neville looked at her, as if hoping she would elaborate. "You must have heard how they were deeply involved in the Snitleg coup; it's perfectly understandable that you would want to keep your distance. In fact, I was going to suggest you do exactly that, I know I will be."

Neville shook his head slightly and, thankfully, dismissed her earlier comment on the basis of the insanity of the second part. Harry however, filed the comment away for future examination; maybe Luna wasn't as loony as people tended to assume.

"Anyway," Neville continued after a moment of silence, "We thought we'd come by and tell you that if you need someone to talk to while Ron and Hermione figure out their priorities, you can always come to us."

"Thanks Neville, I appreciate that. I was really hoping that they would be alright with me not being ready to talk yet, but apparently I was wrong."

"I think they're just surprised," Neville told him sincerely, "They've been worried about you all summer, and they had kind of built up this expectation that when they saw you again, you'd tell them everything and make it all better, and then you could all laugh about how worried they were and everything would be back to normal. And then you didn't, so they're confused and upset."

A second surprise in almost as many minutes, Harry thought, forced to regard Neville in new light as well. Two people he had apparently underestimated in the past; probably blinded by the camaraderie he had shared with Ron and Hermione.

"We also wanted to ask about DA," Luna added, "It was ever so much fun last year - that excitement at the Ministry and all."

Harry blinked. Only Luna could consider being attacked by Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic to have been 'fun'.

"Almost everyone from last year wants it to go on," Neville said eagerly, "I don't think Cho or Michael Corner are all that interested; she's Head Girl and he's a Prefect and wants to spend most of his time with her. But the rest of us really want to learn more, and you were a brilliant teacher."

"We should have a much better Defence teacher this year," Harry pointed out, turning the idea over in his head. He remembered enjoying DA last year, and the students certainly did have the right to learn to defend themselves properly. Having people to practice spells with would probably be good as well. And it would be a good chance to build alliances.

"Yeah, but you weren't just teaching us defence, you were teaching us offence," Neville explained. "You've faced Voldemort yourself, and you were teaching us about that as much as anything else. I … I really liked DA; it helped me a lot, and not just in learning how to defend myself and my friends. I really want to be involved in it again this year."

Harry nodded, "You learnt a lot last year," he agreed. "I spent a lot of time in the holidays researching different spells and styles of fighting, mostly for me, but it would be easy enough to extend that to DA, I think. I think we should get back to school and settle in a bit, though, and see what the new Defence teacher is like before we make any firm plans. Once all the Quidditch teams know when they're training and people have gotten back in the habit of doing their homework and all that, then we can talk about setting DA up again and finding a time that suits everyone."

"That sounds really good," Neville said, smiling brilliantly. "Would you mind I went and told the others what you just said? They really want to know what's going on."

"Be my guest," Harry nodded, and watched as Neville sprinted from the compartment. Luna remained behind, watching him with her intent pale eyes, head tilted slightly to one side as though he was a puzzle that she was determined to solve.

"You were alright after the whole Ministry thing?" Harry asked her politely.

"Oh yes," Luna nodded brightly. "Daddy was worried about me at the beginning of the holidays; he thought I might be slightly traumatized by what happened. But eventually he realised that it was a good thing we had done, and we went hunting Snorlack's together. We found some spores and a few tracks, but we didn't actually see any."

"Maybe next holidays then," Harry suggested, his smile almost natural. Luna was easy to talk to, she didn't expect anything from him, and was almost as disconnected as he felt.

"Perhaps," Luna agreed.

The train ride went quickly after that; some of the other members of DA dropped by in ones and twos, stopping long enough to thank him for the previous years lessons, and to let him know that they wanted to continue; Voldemort was getting active and the more defence they knew, the better.

People Harry had never spoken to – especially girls – also stopped by, usually just staying long enough to introduce themselves before leaving again. Luna seemed very good at scaring such people away with her absent-minded comments about conspiracies and fanciful creatures; she was his one constant companion, but didn't try to push her company on him at all.

He didn't see Ron, Hermione or Ginny again, but his location on the train was an easy one for them to avoid while they were patrolling. The Aurors, on the hand, seemed to stop by every five or ten minutes and Harry often invited them to sit down. Conversation with Aurors was far harder than it had been with the Minister, or with the vampires he had met over the holidays, but by the end of the train ride he felt confident that he had given a good impression. Hopefully he would be able to keep in touch with them, contacts in the Aurors would be useful.

When they reached the station, Harry was very relieved to disembark; it had been a long time since he'd been confined inside for long and he had more than once been tempted to get his Firebolt out and fly above the train for awhile. He probably would have tried it if he didn't know the Auror guards would have stopped him.

Along with Luna and Neville, who had joined them again for the final part of the ride, Harry made his way to the Thestral drawn carriages. He paused before getting in, to gently pat the animal that was drawing it. He was slightly surprised when it nuzzled its head against him affectionately.

Somewhere near by he heard Ron exclaim loudly, "We _rode_ on these things?" Evidently he had learnt to see the Thestrals since the train ride home the previous school year. Harry climbed into the carriage and lent back, closing his eyes for a moment. Being out in daylight for so long had made his eyes quite tired.

Hogwarts was fast approaching, and with it the world that he had been apart from for the past two months. He suspected that Ron and Hermione would not be the only ones who were disappointed with the reality of his return, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to talking to Dumbledore either.

He had changed so much since he left, not even three months ago. Everything was different now; would Hogwarts still have its same magic, bring him the same delight that it once had? His lips quirked in a faint smile – it would be some time yet before Hogwarts could bring him any delight at all.

The carriages came to a halt, and the students spilled out. Harry descended slowly, Neville and Luna close at his back. As soon as he was visible, he could feel people turning to look, hear the whispers starting up. Some was still surprised that he was back, having not seen him on the train, others commented on the rather obvious absence of Ron and Hermione.

Harry ignored the comments easily, walking calmly up the stairs and into the entrance hall. With so much attention focused on him, it wasn't surprising that Dumbledore found him immediately. "Harry, my dear boy, it's delightful to see you safe and sound at Hogwarts," the old wizard exclaimed.

Harry turned to Neville and Luna, "Thank you for company on the train ride, if will excuse me a moment?" they nodded quickly and left, hurrying to their respective tables to sit before the sorting began. "How may I help you, Headmaster?"

"So cold Harry," Dumbledore murmured, his voice filled with disappointed rejection. "You used to trust me."

"I still do," Harry spoke quietly also. "You are my Headmaster and the leader of the old crowd. You are the figurehead for the stand against the Dark. But you must also learn that _my life is my own_, and I will not allow you to make all of my decisions any longer. _You_ must now trust _me_ to know what is in my best interests, regardless of what you believe yourself."

"But Harry-"

"No buts, Headmaster. I told you I was safe this summer, you chose not to listen. It is my hope that in the future you will chose to listen to my decisions, and perhaps even learn to respect them. There is much for us to talk about, but I feel that here is not the time, nor the place, for that conversation. Perhaps we could adjourn to your office after the feast?"

"I … yes, my office, after the feast," Dumbledore nodded.

"Until then, Headmaster," Harry said quietly giving a slight bow of his head in Dumbledore's direction before he turned on his heel and made his way over to the Gryffindor table, where Neville had saved him a seat.

"What did Dumbledore want?"

"To talk to me," Harry shrugged, "Mainly about the summer, I expect. I will be meeting him in his office after the feast tonight." He gave a slight, secretive smile without even meaning to. He already had Dumbledore on the wrong foot, now he just had to keep it that way.

Once the older students were all seated, McGonagall lead the new first years in. Harry barely looked at them, they were of no particular interest to him, after all. The Sorting Hat was brought out as well, and set before the new students.

A slight shift in the air currents brought a new scent suddenly to Harry's attention, and he focused on it, not even noticing when the Sorting Hat began its song. The scent was puzzlingly familiar in a way that Harry couldn't understand, and it was coming from the direction of the first years.

While the hat sang, Harry focused, trying to figure out which of them he was sensing. He eventually narrowed it down a short, slender boy with dark eyes and hair standing near the back of the line. Of all the students, he seemed the least nervous, standing with his back very straight, eyes moving between the Hat and the Slytherin table.

The Sorting progressed fairly normally, roughly even numbers of students being sent to each of the four House tables. Harry clapped politely for every student sorted into Gryffindor, and made a point of giving a – hopefully – welcoming smile when each took their seat.

His attention was still mostly focused on the puzzling first year, who remained at his place in the line as McGonagall made her through the R's; he was going to be one of the last students left standing. McGonagall started on the S's, and came to a name that sent surprised whispers rushing across the hall.

"Snape, Sebastian."

Harry was somehow unsurprised when the mystery boy he had been watching stepped forward, faced composed and struggling not to let himself be put off by the whispering mass in front of him. Harry was jolted back to his own Sorting, when the school had a very similar – though infinitely more welcoming – response.

The Snape boy sat down slowly and put the Sorting Hat on; like most first years it fell straight past his ears and came to rest more on his shoulders. The hat deliberated for a very long time; the atmosphere in the hall growing gradually more tense and silent as they waited to hear the judgement. Everyone had been expecting the Hat to immediately declare him a Slytherin and let the Sorting end.

Finally, the Hat opened its brim of a mouth and cried out, "_RAVENCLAW!_"

The silence was deafening as Snape junior removed the hat. He shot a longing glance in the direction of the Slytherin table, and a slightly apologetic one in the direction of his father. A moment later the Hall erupted, everyone asking the same question: How had Snape's son _not_ been put in Slytherin?

"Silence!" Dumbledore had to try several times before order was restored to the hall, the younger Snape still hovering beside the Sorting Hat. "If Ravenclaw House would be so kind as to welcome their newest member, we will finish the sorting."

The Ravenclaw students gave a very half-hearted cheer of welcome, and Harry noticed Professor Snape's eyes narrowing dangerously; Ravenclaw's had better beware when they got to Potions, Snape did _not_ seem impressed by their House right now.

Harry surprised himself by also clapping as Sebastian made his way slowly across the hall. He ignored the surprised glances of his housemates, and from both the Snape's for that matter, and shot Sebastian an encouraging smile as the boy sat down with the new first years.

Snape Senior, Harry was interested to note, looked surprised but didn't seem particularly disappointed to see his son sorted into Ravenclaw. As Harry had watched, his expression had turned from shock to a quiet pride, and Harry knew that, without a doubt, Severus Snape loved his son, even if he didn't care about anyone else on the face of the planet.

The final few students were quickly sorted, though Harry's attention was now gone from them. His eyes were still on Sebastian, and his mind was trying to figure out what was so different about the boy.

Also ignoring Dumbledore standing to deliver the general start of term notices, Harry reflected that it was already looking to be a very interesting year.

* * *

Chapter edited 22 Ocobter 2008

Again, minor changes only. Mentioned Harry trying to gain allies among the Aurors.

WolfMoon


	13. First Day Back

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter Thirteen: First Day Back

The feast passed by in a blur for Harry; his mind was busy worrying at the problem that was Sebastian Snape, so it was difficult to remember to respond properly to the variously housemates who came to talk to him. Most of them wanted to know where he'd been over the summer, and to prove to themselves that he was still alive. The other main query was why he wasn't sitting with Ron and Hermione.

He got somewhat tired of saying, "I was staying in a secret, warded location; Ron, Hermione and I are having a disagreement about my disappearance over the summer".

Once the remains of the feast disappeared from the plates Dumbledore stood up to give the main start of term announcements. Harry reluctantly set his thoughts about Sebastian Snape aside and did his best to concentrate on the older wizard.

"Now that our bellies are filled, let me again say welcome to all of our new students, and welcome back to everyone who has returned! Before we all go to sleep soundly in our beds, there are a number of important announcements I must make.

"Firstly, Mr. Filch has asked me to inform you all that the list of banned objects can be found posted outside his office; the list has almost doubled in length thanks to the wonderful inventions of the Misters Fred and George Weasley being marketted over summer. Students are encouraged to check this list to ensure they don't have illegal items in their possession.

"As I say, each and every year, the Forbidden Forest on the grounds is – as its name suggests – forbidden. This rule applies to _all_ students, and I might make mention that some of our older students seem to need reminding of this just as much as the new comers.

"You have all undoubtedly noticed that our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher has yet to arrive; I have received word that she has been regrettably held up, but should be able to join us for breakfast in the morning.

"Also, as you are all undoubtedly aware, Lord Voldemort has made public his return to power. This will have several impacts on your time at school until the threat has been dealt with. First, the curfew has been changed to eight o'clock – any student found out of the common rooms after this time will be dealt with strictly. If you are meeting with a member of a staff and that meeting ends after curfew, that teacher will walk you back to your common room. Your teachers have all be informed of this also, but in case they forget you had best remind them.

"Second, after several concerned staff and parents requested Quidditch be banned this year, we have reached a compromise which demands at least one teacher be present at all practice sessions, and a full compliment of Aurors will attend all matches. Also, all players have been issued wand holsters so that you can keep your wands in an easily reachable position. If any student is found taking advantage of this in a match, he or she will be immediately and indefinitately suspended from the team.

"Third, the age limit for Hogsmeade visits has regrettably been upped. Only students in fourth year and above will be permitted to go to Hogsmeade; also, for these visits we will be implementing a 'buddy' system. No student is to go anywhere alone while in the town, you should always be accompanied by at least one friend, if not more. Aurors and teachers will be stationed about the town in case of an attack.

"These rules have been set in place for the safety of all students and it is my fervent hope that none of you before me now will flaunt them. That is all for my somewhat grim announcements, so if house Prefects would kindly ensure that all first years reach their dormitories without mishap, you are all dismissed for the night! I look forward to seeing you again in the morning for the first day of classes!"

Harry moved with the flow of students from the hall, but he extracted himself from it as soon as he was through the doors. He had not been waiting long when Dumbledore joined him. "Ah, there you are Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "Shall we go to my office?"

"Lead the way, Headmaster," Harry returned, falling in step behind the older wizard. They walked in silence to the gargoyle who guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Blood Pops," Dumbledore addressed the stone, which immediately came to life and sprang aside. Harry suppressed a shiver, half-wondering if Dumbledore's choice of password was an omen, foretelling the failure of the plans he and Charles had laid so carefully over the summer.

Harry shook the feeling quickly as he followed the headmaster up the revolving staircase and into his office. He would keep his secrets, even from the headmaster; no one would get them out of him until he was well and truly ready to share them.

Dumbledore's office, when they entered, was exactly as Harry remembered it. Portraits of the various Headmasters and Headmistresses covered the walls and Dumbledore's extensive collection of knick-knacks seemed unchanged by his violence at the end of the previous school year.

As Dumbledore moved behind his desk, Harry took the seat in front of it without being asked. Subtle gestures were the key to making sure that Dumbledore never forgot Harry was his own man now. "So my dear boy, are you going to explain where you have been this summer?" Dumbledore asked, trying valiantly to regain the upper hand.

"I wasn't planning on it, no," Harry replied. "I would prefer if you not ask me that again; I have no intention of discussing the details of my summer with anyone at present."

"It was very irresponsible of you to leave like that-"

"I beg to differ, Headmaster. Although perhaps hastily made, my decision to leave my aunt and uncle's home most certainly saved my life. Had I remained there for the summer I would certainly have died; as it was I barely managed to survive."

"That is impossible," Dumbledore said, tone faintly dismissive, "It is not possible for Voldemort to find or harm you while you are under your aunt's roof."

"I did not say it was Voldemort," Harry pointed out, "But the assumption is a correct one. Voldemort attacked me with an ancient weapon, one which the blood wards you set up would have been incapable of protecting me from. Tell me, Headmaster, have you ever heard of the Carcer de Malus?"

"The Carcer de Malus has been deemed nothing more than a myth by our world for centuries," Dumbledore frowned, probably trying to remember every reference he had found to the place.

"The Carcer de Malus is as real as the Chamber of Secrets, and just as deadly," Harry said coldly, "Voldemort has gained access to the Carcer de Malus, and he attempted to use it to destroy me. Had he succeeded, this war would likely already be lost. Do you really believe that you could have protected me from that, Dumbledore?"

The old man's shoulders slumped. "No, I would not have even known where to begin," he said softly, then shook his head slightly. "While the outcome of your decision to leave your relatives may have been the more desirable, however, I still consider the decision itself to be a poor one, and made in haste."

Harry shrugged, "That's your opinion and you are welcome to it. I have absolutely no regrets about my choice, and I would make it again in a heartbeat, even without knowing that it would save my life. More importantly, however, the Carcer de Malus is active again, and you need to make sure the Order is ready for the consequences of that, whatever they might be.

"I tried to do some research over the summer, but there is very little actual information on the subject that I could find. The library I was using was much more extensive than the one here at Hogwarts, but it is still possible that there are books here that I didn't have. I would like your permission to be granted access to the restricted section of the library for my research."

"I could easily get some of the Order members to research the Carcer de Malus Harry, you should focus your attention on your school work and Voldemort himself. No matter how much I might want to shield you from it, you are the one who will have to face him in the end, after all."

"You aren't particularly well-versed in the legends of the Carcer are you, Headmaster? Not that is surprising, of course, as you said, our world considers it nothing more than a myth. There was a prophecy made about the Carcer as well; only the one who survives it can destroy it. I am the only one who has survived it, and the experience changed me greatly. Feel free to have your Order research it as well – they will have to deal with its side effects – but it is my responsibility to see it destroyed, and to do that I need to have all the information I can find."

"In that case I will of course inform Madam Pince that you are to be allowed full access to the entirety of the library," Dumbledore promised, and Harry nodded. "I may be of some assistance, the Dumbledore family library is extensive, so perhaps I have some books that you have not yet seen."

"If you find anything that isn't the generic crap printed in the majority of books that mention the Carcer, feel free to pass them on," Harry nodded. "Also, I would like your permission to leave the school from time to time over the school year. Minister Scrimgeour has extended an invitation to get to know the workings of the Ministry, and I would like to take him up on that."

"I'm not at all sure that's wise, Harry, especially considering how the Ministry has treated you in the past."

"It is my belief that the magical world needs to present a united front if we are to have any chance of standing against Voldemort this time. The public's impression of the Ministry has been sorely damaged, and needs to be repaired. The Ministry is a rallying point, and they can make life difficult or easy, but if they are to be successful, they need to rebuild their image. I intend to help."

Dumbledore looked as though he wanted to protest that, but instead he simply nodded with a weary sigh that was perhaps supposed to make Harry reconsider his decision. "I will make sure the appropriate arrangements are made. You will need to inform me at least two days before you wish to leave the school grounds, and you will need to have an escort."

"Of course," Harry agreed amiably. "I believe that was all I needed to cover with you Headmaster; would you be so kind as to escort me to the Gryffindor tower? I believe it is long past curfew and I would quite like to get some sleep before classes start tomorrow," he started to stand.

"Of course, my dear boy," Dumbledore nodded graciously. They walked most of the way to the common room in silence, but just as they were turning last corridor Dumbledore finally spoke again, "One last thing Harry. The Weasley's have extended an invitation for you to join them for Christmas, either at the Burrow or at Grimmauld Place, I promised Molly I would organise things."

"I already have holiday plans, but I will send a letter to Molly thanking her for the thought," Harry answered immediately.

"If you could be convinced to re-think that decision ..."

"I will let you know, but I certainly do not expect that to be an issue at this point in time," Harry said firmly. "Do you have the password?" he added, as they came to a halt in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. Dumbledore gave it, a trifle unwillingly, and Harry bidded him a firm goodnight before crawling through and into the common room.

It was as empty as the corridors had been; apparently none of the students wanted to stay up too late on the first day back before classes. Harry went quietly up to his dormitory and pulled the drapes closed around his bed so that he wouldn't disturb his room mates.

He wasn't even remotely sleepy yet; he was still overly energetic from feeding and didn't need more than three or four hours of sleep each night. As the buzz from feeding gradually faded, his need to sleep would become more pronounced. He pulled his trunk up onto the bed and started unpacking.

The first thing that he took out was the dream catcher Charles had made. He noted that the stone in the middle was clouded, which meant it had stored at least one dream for him to view. He had checked it several times since he had gotten it, usually finding nightmares revolving around Sirius and Cedric. Since his emotionless state should have meant he wouldn't experience such nightmares, he knew that they had to have come from Voldemort.

It was getting time to go through the dreams and empty the stone again, but not tonight. It would take awhile, to look through all the dreams and then to remove them one by one, and he did want to get some sleep before classes began. He hung it carefully above the bed and turned back to his trunk.

He took out the photo album of his parents, putting it into the drawer beside his bed, and set the figurine of Padfoot that Ron and Hermione had given him on the bedside table where he could see it. He also took out a few of his school books and put them around his bed; the items meant either very little or nothing at all to him, but having them out would hopefully keep people believing that he still had access to his emotions.

That done, he showered quickly and climbed into bed, only to lie for hours staring up at the darkened ceiling. He had become used to his bed at Potter Manor, and the warmth of Wraith's form lying beside him, and it was hard to sleep without them.

He went back over his conversation with the Headmaster. Dumbledore had been reticent to give Harry permission to use the restricted section of the library, especially since it was searching for information regarding the Carcer de Malus. Harry got the feeling that Dumbledore didn't want him to think about the war at all, and that if he was going to, he should think about defeating Voldemort only.

The invitation to the Weasley's for Christmas had come as a surprise, and he got the feeling that Dumbledore had thrown it in as a last resort, hoping to steer Harry back into 'safe' waters. The Weasley's wouldn't normally invite him for Christmas until much closer to the holiday, although with his apparent falling out with Ron, he didn't think it would work out so well this year.

Dumbledore had seemed quite taken-aback by Harry's new-found support for the Ministry. Harry had deliberately not mentioned that he had Scrimgeour's promise to consider any suggestions or opinions that Harry might have; he wasn't sure that he wanted Dumbledore to be aware of his growing grasp on politics; he wanted to see where Dumbledore stood first.

Hesitations and general unwillingness aside, Harry knew that Dumbledore wanted Harry to trust him, and now _Dumbledore_ knew that if he wanted Harry's trust, he would have to work hard for it. Harry also knew that he needed Dumbledore's public support if he wanted to go through with promoting the 'united front' he had mentioned to the Headmaster. Dumbledore's support and the lifetime of information he would have collected would also be invaluable assets. He would have to judge carefully just how far he was prepared to push the headmaster.

Eventually, Harry drifted off to sleep, his mind running in circles as he thought about everything that had already happened since he had boarded the Hogwarts Express. The last thought he remembered having before sleep claimed him was _I miss Charles_.

Despite falling asleep well after the other boys in his dormitory, Harry was the first awake. By the time the sun had cleared the horizon he was up, showered and dressed and sitting in the common room to finish composing the letter to Charles he had begun on the train the previous day. He had left off sending it while he was still on the train the day before so that he could give a summary of his conversation with Dumbledore, which he knew would interest Charles.

It was awhile before anyone else came downstairs; Harry wasn't too surprised to see that Hermione was the next to descend from the dormitories. He wondered how she was going to react to him when her boyfriend wasn't there blowing up.

"Good morning," he greeted her pleasantly as he folded the letter.

"Good morning," she returned her eyes on the parchment in his hands and full of questions. "Writing to Charles?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, "Just letting him know I've arrived safely at school."

"It looks like a long letter to just say that," she said pointedly.

Harry shrugged, "There are few other things I wanted to tell him about."

"I … uh, I'm sorry about Ron blowing up at you yesterday. You just surprised us, you've always told us what was happening, and we were both really surprised when you didn't."

"I'm not going to talk about summer, Hermione," Harry said firmly. "I really hope that you and Ron can get over that, because I value our friendship."

"Not enough to tell us what happened," Ron pointed out as he stomped downstairs. Hermione smiled brightly when she saw him and stood up to give him a hug, which he returned a little distantly, still glaring at Harry. "Come on Hermione, let's go for breakfast," he added, deliberately turning his back on Harry.

Neville had come downstairs just behind Ron and smiled sympathetically at Harry. "I'm sure Ron will get over it," he offered.

Harry gave what he hoped was a reassured smile, "Yeah I know. It might take awhile though."

"Would … would you like me to come down to breakfast with you? Since Ron and Hermione have already gone, I mean."

"It would be nice to have company," Harry replied, standing up and absently brushing his robes into place. "I need to go via the owlery though, if that's alright with you?"

"I need to post something to my gran, so I need to go there too," Neville assured him, and they left the common room together. "You look really different this year; I didn't want to say anything yesterday what with Ron being a git. You look much more … grown up."

Harry flashed a slight smile, "I did a lot of growing up over summer. The friend I was staying with – his name is Charles – insisted that I dress well and learn about the things I will need to survive in this world. I was amazed at how many things I just didn't know about, the sort of things that I guess you and Ron grew up with."

"What sort of things?" Neville asked curiously.

"Well, a pretty example is Silent Casting," Harry said, "But lots of little things as well, some cultural knowledge, some things about magic in general that I never really got before."

"You didn't know about Silent Casting? I wondered why you didn't bring it up in DA last year but I didn't really want to say anything. My gran says that Hogwarts normally starts teaching it in sixth year; she thinks they should make it younger though, get us in the habit early. Do you think it will be hard?"

Harry debated whether or not to tell Neville that he had already learnt a lot about it. "I think it will be hard at first, because you have to learn an entire new way of thinking and working with magic, but once you get the hang of a few spells, it will probably get easier and easier."

"I hope it won't be too hard, I'm finally starting to feel like I might have caught up with the rest of you guys, I don't want to fall behind again," now that the conversation was actually moving, Neville seemed to lose his nervousness about talking to Harry.

"I think you'll do fine. But if you have any trouble with it, I can probably give you a hand," Harry offered, reminding himself to smile. "I read a lot about it over summer; I think I'll get the hang of it pretty quickly."

"Really? That would be great Harry! I learnt so much when you were teaching us in DA last year," Neville said enthusiastically. "Who do you think our new Defence teacher is going to be? They weren't at the feast last night …"

"I have no idea, I just hope they know what they're doing," Harry shrugged, "Although I don't think that Dumbledore could get away with hiring anyone substandard, not now that everyone knows Voldemort is back."

The remainder of the walk to the owlery and down to the great hall was filled with a discussion of the best and worst teachers they had had so far, and what they hoped for in the teacher for this year. Neville was easier to talk to than Harry had expected; he didn't require nearly as much attention as Ron and Hermione did, and their conversation could wander along different and interesting topics very easily.

When they reached the Hall, Ron and Hermione were already seated and Ron was determinedly not looking in Harry's direction. "Hey Potter, did you finally decide you're too good for Weasel and the Mudblood? Not that Longbottom's much better, but at least he's Pureblood!" Draco called.

Harry turned and offered Malfoy the most polite smile he could muster, "Always so interested in all the latest gossip aren't you Malfoy? Not a very masculine approach to life." He turned back to his conversation with Neville; as even the Slytherin's started laughing at Malfoy. If Malfoy responded, Harry didn't hear it.

"I … um, said I'd sit with Luna this morning," Neville turned awkward again as they walked across the Great Hall. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Harry assured him with a faint smile, and Neville turned to sit with Luna at the Ravenclaw table. Harry found a seat at the Gryffindor table. Unlike the other times when he had been fighting with Ron and Hermione, Harry didn't feel alone. What seemed like half of Gryffindor came to talk to him, much like they had the night before. He noticed that Ron seemed to get more annoyed with every person that Harry spoke to, even when they only exchanged a few words.

Part way through breakfast Professor McGonagall came down the table handing out time tables. Harry glanced at his and noted that Potions was going to be his first class of the day. Suddenly reminded of the night before, Harry turned to stare at the Ravenclaw table, looking over every student sitting there and eventually coming to the conclusion that the younger Snape wasn't there yet.

Harry had forgotten to include a question about the boy in the letter he had just sent off the Charles, but he would have to make sure he did make a mention of the boy to his Sire soon; his gut told him that Charles would be able to help him solve the mystery of why the boy stood out from the crowd.

Just as Harry was about to stand to head down to the dungeons for his first lesson of the year, the doors to the Great Hall opened and a beautiful – and familiar – witch swept into the hall, removing a light traveling cloak and shaking out a mane of silvery-blonde hair.

Harry heard a hissed intake of breath coming from near where Ron, Hermione and Ginny where sitting. Ginny was looking daggers at the young witch who had just entered the hall, which surprised Harry as he was sure that Ginny had never met her.

He turned his attention back to the new arrival as she sauntered up to the Great Hall and shook hands with Dumbledore. The two exchanged polite words, and Dumbledore turned to address the students, "Some of you may recognize Miss Fleur Delacour from her brief time here as the Beauxbaton's Champion during the Tri-Wizard tournament. I am delighted to welcome her back this year as _Professor_ Delacour, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

Every male in the Great Hall burst into great applause, all of them seeming to be trying to crane their heads to see Fleur better. Harry clapped as well, though not nearly as enthusiastically as the majority of his gender, and was one of the few who weren't openly ogling the new teacher.

Fleur smiled brightly at the welcome and sat down between Snape and McGonagall, chatter airily with them. Snape rose shortly after she joined them, and Harry quickly stood as well; Snape disliked it when students arrived for lessons after he did, and it would not be a good idea to antagonize the Potions Master on the first day back at school.

When he reached the dungeons, he found a group of students already waiting there. There were only three other Gryffindor students among them – Hermione, Seamus and one of the girls that Harry knew little about. He thought her name was Mary, but wasn't entirely sure.

Ernie McMillan looked to be the only Hufflepuff to have made it into the class, but there were a number of Ravenclaws and more than half of the Slytherin's. "How in Merlin's name did _you _make into this class Potter? Can't have been through your ability, _everyone_ knows you're rubbish at Potions. Did the Ministry make some sort of exception for you?"

"That will be enough, Mr. Malfoy," Snape had arrived. "For whatever reason, we are plagued with Mr. Potter's presence in this class for at least the next year. We will all simply have to learn to live with it, however detestable it might be."

He saw anger on the faces of every non-Slytherin there, but didn't bother to force any expression onto his own face; Snape couldn't get to him this year, and he didn't intend to pretend that he could. Once the door to the classroom was open, Harry moved to a seat near the back of the room where he would be reasonably out of the way and went to sit down.

"Nobody is to sit," Snape announced, just before anyone actually tried to. "You are all here because you have shown exceeding ability in Potions. That is not enough-over the next two years you will have to at least double your ability if you hope to pass this subject.

"If you are to have even the slightest hope of success you will need not only your own intelligence but the assistance of your classmates. I expect you to leave all class rivalry behind when you enter this classroom; it will only detract from the more important consideration of this subject. As such, you will all be sorted into cross-House pairs. You will keep these pairs for all of this term; at the beginning of the next I will consider changing them around.

That said, Snape started calling out sets of names, and two by two the class sorted itself out and sat down. Harry was paired with Blaise Zabini, the dark skinned boy who had apparently been pressed into service as Malfoy's latest minion. Harry hadn't seen Crabbe or Goyle yet this year, and was wondering if they had failed to pass too many subjects the year before.

"Potter," Zabini greeted him as they took their cauldrons to the back of the classroom.

"Zabini," Harry nodded cordially in response. They were silent after that, taking their cauldrons out and setting up the work station quickly and effectively, then sitting down to wait for their next instructions from Snape. The class was already going very differently from anything Harry had previously experienced with Snape.

"Mr. Potter, can you tell me what time of the month fluxweed must be picked at if it is to be added to the Polyjuice Potion?"

Having read all of this years text book already, Harry was well aware that Polyjuice Potion was mentioned only at the very back of the book; there was a list of ingredients but no actual instructions on making the potion. He quickly reviewed his knowledge of the textbook to make sure the answer was actually included before answering, "The full moon sir."

Snape looked surprised and faintly annoyed that Harry had known the answer, and jabbed his wand at the black board. The recipe for a complex looking potion immediately appeared there. "You will need your partners help with this potion. Begin now."

Harry turned to Zabini, "How would you like to work this Zabini? One of us prepares the ingredients and cleans up the workstation; the other mixes the potion and cleans the cauldron?"

"Works for me Potter," Zabini nodded, "Swap every lesson?"

"Sounds good, which would you prefer to do today? I don't mind."

"I'll mix the potion then," Zabini said, and Harry nodded, turning to read through the instructions on the blackboard, then check them carefully in his potions book as well before he got out the ingredients. He quickly prioritized the order in which they would need to be prepared, and organised them into piles reflecting that order before he began preparing them.

Zabini quietly started a fire under the cauldron and poured the base in, making sure it was heated to the correct temperature over the correct amount of time and watching Harry set himself up with interest. They were mostly silent, doing their own section of the work but keep half an eye on what the other was doing.

Once, Harry stopped Zabini before he added too many crushed scorpion tails to the mixture, and a few times Zabini quietly requested that Harry slice or crush an ingredient more thoroughly before adding it to the potion. They seemed to be working together the best of all the pairs in the room.

Snape paid very little attention to them all lesson, spending most of his time attempting to stem the arguments erupting between the partners he had set up; Malfoy and Ernie McMillan were probably having the most difficulty, followed closely by Hermione and Daphne Greengrass. From what little Harry gathered on the rare occasion he paid attention to anything other than what he was working on, either none of the others had assigned themselves sections of the workload, or if they had, they couldn't stick to them. One, if not both, always thought they were better at the subject than their partner.

By the end of the lesson only about half of the class had actually managed to complete the potion to a level anywhere near what was expected, and of them, Harry and Zabini had definitely created the best one. Hermione seemed both surprised and annoyed that Harry had out-performed her, and looked like she was blaming it all on Greengrass.

Once samples of every potion had been placed on Snape's desk and all the workstations were cleared properly – again, Harry and Zabini had done this the fastest and most efficiently of anyone in the class – Snape told them all to sit again.

"I am highly disappointed in the majority of your performances today," he began, his soft, silky voice making most of the students squirm. "I expect you all to do much better in the future, anyone who is unable to leave their prejudices outside this classroom and work effectively as part of a team will have no future in this field. You will all prepare a two foot essay on two famous Potions Masters – one who has or had a partner working with them, and one who worked alone, and highlight the differences between the highs and lows of their careers."

Everyone hastily copied down the homework. "Class dismissed," Snape barked as soon as the last quill stopped scratching. "Potter, remain behind."

Harry walked up to Snape's desk as everyone else filed out and waited patiently for the Professor to put away all the vials of potions. "What did you want to talk to me about sir?" Harry asked politely, when Snape ignored him for a few minutes too long.

Snape took a deep breath, "Professor McGonagall should have made you very aware that you are here only on sufferance Potter. Give me any reason to remove you from this class and I will do so immediately, no questions asked."

"She made that very clear sir. I wanted to thank you for giving me this opportunity," Harry interjected smoothly when Snape paused for breath.

If Snape was surprised by the statement, it didn't show. His face remained sour as he continued. "The Headmaster has again pressed me into service to teach you Occlumency Potter. If I have even the slightest cause to suspect you of usurping my privacy again, I will have you expelled from this school and not even Dumbledore will be able to deny me. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Harry nodded, "Also, since you have brought the subject up … I did not have the opportunity to apologise in any sincerity last year, but I do very much regret the incident you refer to. I kept the particulars of the incident secret and want to assure you that I will not allow my curiosity to overcome good manners again this year. I am very thankful you have agreed to continue the lessons, and intend to be a much more amiable student this time around."

For a very long time Snape didn't seem to know what to say, finally he shook his head slightly, "We both know that you are not in any way _sorry_ for your behaviour last year Potter," he snapped, "And that manners are beyond you. After all, the entire world worships you. That you apologised because the Headmaster told you to is of no account. You may leave, and I will see you this evening for our first lesson."

"Of course Sir," Harry said mildly, packing away his things with a quick wave of his wand and walking to the door. Without turning, just before he reached it, he added, "And Professor Dumbledore did not request I apologise to you. If you doubt my sincerity, you may ask him yourself." There was still no response from Snape, and Harry left the classroom to join his friends in the great hall again.

Zabini stopped him as he entered the Great Hall moments later, "Potter," he began before pausing and shaking his head. "Never mind."

"I enjoyed working with you today Zabini," Harry said politely as the youth turned his back. He continued across to the Gryffindor table before the Slytherin boy had a chance to respond. Hermione was again already seated with Ron and Ginny at the Gryffindor table, and both Weasley's seemed determined to ignore Harry still.

Harry tuned in to the conversation around the Hall; much of it seemed to focus on Fleur and her teaching methods. None of the males seemed able to say anything bad about her, though most of what they were saying was about her looks rather than any endorsement of her teaching skills. The girls seemed surprisingly happy as well, however, and were talking more about the lessons themselves. From the sounds of things, lessons with Fleur were going to be interesting.

He left the Great Hall shortly after, needing to escape from the press of students who all seemed to want to talk to him now that he wasn't spending all of his time talking with Ron and Hermione. He walked up to the Defence room, figuring that he might as well get there early.

To his surprise, Fleur was there already as well, apparently preparing for the lesson. "Harry!" she cried delightedly when she saw him, and swept over to embrace him warmly. He returned the hug gently, and let her step back to look at him. "My, you have changed," Fleur remarked, looking him over critically. "Almost enough for me to wish I weren't engaged, but not quite," she added with a distant smile.

"You're engaged?"

"You had not heard? Bill and I are to wed this summer, I would have thought your little friends, Ginevra and Ronald, would have told you all about it," Fleur seemed slightly put out that her pending wedding hadn't made it into Harry's conversations with his friends. "We are very, very happy together."

"Ron, Ginny and Hermione were less than pleased that I didn't want to talk about my holiday," Harry explained, realizing that he actually didn't want her to be upset. He made a mental note to tell Charles about it. "We haven't really been speaking."

"Oh, that is too bad! They were so looking forward to seeing you," Fleur told him. "I have been looking forward to seeing you also," she confided, "I was disappointed when you did not come to the Burrow over summer."

"Why did you want to see me?" Harry asked.

"I was very impressed by you at the TriWizard Tournament, even though I made my dislike for you plain. You saved my sister; you tried to save the boy … Cedric? You are the Boy-Who-Lived, and I was very surprised when you seemed to live up to the expectations that everyone had for you. I wanted a chance to see you again, outside of such an impossible situation, and see if you continued to live up to your legend."

Her eyes were fixed on his as she spoke, and there was something … strange stirring deep within them. He couldn't look away, couldn't dismiss her next words, "There are things you do not know … things you need to learn. I had to find out if you were worthy of knowing them-"

The door opened and the sixth year class spilled into the room, cancelling the weird mood that had built up around them. Fleur stepped back, shaking out her mane of silver hair and turned from him as if their conversation had been of no importance.

Harry felt slightly dazed as he found a seat, Fleur's last words to him running in circles in his mind. He didn't notice the jealous looks from the other boys in the class, and got out his books by rote, not really thinking about them. He didn't pay a lot of attention to the first few minutes of the lesson, with Fleur giving them a brief history of her life.

"I returned to England after I finished my schooling at Beauxbatons, I had been intrigued by many things during my stay here for the Tournament, your culture, your way of doing things is very different to what I was used to in France. I met my fiancé for the first time at the Tournament as well, and started working with him at Gringotts last year to improve my English. Now that I speak your language fluently, I have decided to return to my dream, which is teaching.

"I asked Professor Dumbledore about positions at Hogwarts, and was delighted to find out that there was a vacancy. Arithmancy was the subject I was actually interested in teaching, but Defence Against the Dark Arts was my second choice, so I am very glad to have gotten this position.

"Headmaster Dumbledore has told me all about your previous education in this subject, all the different teachers coming and going so often. I have looked over your results in the OWL examinations, and you have done fairly well. I will spend the first few weeks of class making sure you have a thorough understanding of the basic principles of this class, and then move on to preparing you for the NEWTs."

Even the boys in the class couldn't quite manage to be enthusiastic about the quiz that she handed out to start the lesson, although most of them tried to at least pretend to be happy about it, as if they thought that might impress her.

Harry started the quiz, trying to put her words out of his mind for the moment and concentrate on his work, but they kept returning at odd moments, insistent that he work out the meaning behind them. He didn't get a chance to speak with Fleur at the end of the class, and he could tell from the look she shot after him that she also desperately wanted to continue their conversation.

* * *

Last edited 22 October 2008

Again, only some minor changes.

Question: Would you like to see Horace Slughorn next year? What about Fenrir Greyback? Let me know in your reviews!

WolfMoon


	14. Classes Begin

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter Fourteen: Classes Begin

The rest of Harry's classes on the first day were easy. He had a free lesson before lunch, which he used to make a good start on the essay Snape had set them; researching famous Potions Masters wasn't as interesting as researching famous Aurors, but it was interesting enough for him to get absorbed by the assignment.

When he reached the Great Hall for lunch, he found it buzzing with the news that Sebastian Snape had already been sent to the hospital wing sporting a broken arm, a bloodied nose and a number of nasty hexes; Professor Snape was not at the staff table – word had it that he was with his son. Ron was telling Hermione, gleefully, all of the rumors he had heard about what spells had been cast on the poor boy. Hermione was looking a little sick.

Harry felt the stirrings of anger as he considered what had apparently been done to the boy; he remembered what it felt like to be bullied, knew first hand from Snape what it was like to be tormented because of who your father was. He pitied the young Ravenclaw, just being his father's son was likely going to make his years at Hogwarts extremely difficult.

The one thing Harry _didn't_ hear over the course of the meal was who had taken part in the attack. Evidently no one was prepared to say anything where someone might overhear and report it to Snape. Harry made a silent promise to himself that if he ever heard anything about who attacked the boy, he would immediately report it to Professor Snape – whoever considered it alright to curse an eleven year old for the sins of his father deserved to face Snape's wrath.

The afternoon classed passed without anything of particular note. As Charles had mentioned, Silent Casting seemed to be a major part of the NEWT curriculum. Harry got the feeling that everyone was going to get tired of being reminded of the fact that students who could perform all of their practical examinations silently got substantially better grades than those who used vocal incantations. They wouldn't actually get to practice Silent Casting in any of the classes until later in the week.

Between the final class for the day and dinner, Harry called a brief meeting of the people who were currently on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Even Ron actually showed up, albeit looking sour at the fact that he had talk to Harry – or perhaps just because he had wanted to be captain and Harry had gotten the position instead.

Harry looked over the team. Sloper and Kirk, the Beaters, had shown up again, along with Ron as Keeper and Katie Bell as the only Chaser. With him as the Seeker, it meant that they only _had_ to find two Chasers. "Hi guys, I know you probably have homework or other things you need to do before dinner tonight, but I just wanted to talk to you quickly," he said, once they were all seated off to one side of the common room.

"That's ok, as long as this is quick," Katie smiled at him, "I've got to go and speak with McGonagall before dinner is all."

Harry nodded. "I just wanted to ask you all to think about a good time for us to hold tryouts. It won't be this week, but next week or the week after would have to be the latest. We need to start training as quickly as we can. Also, I'm going to try and form a full reserve team, so everyone will need to try out for their own position, to make sure that we get all of the best players on the actual team. Is that ok with all of you?"

"Fine with me," Katie confirmed.

"Us to," Jack spoke for both Beaters. "We're hoping that we'll end up on the reserve team, we both have a lot of work to get through this year and anyway, we weren't all that good. You should be able to find better replacements for the actual team."

In the face of otherwise unanimous approval, Ron nodded sullenly, but as soon as the other members of the team were gone, he was glaring at Harry. "Is this your way of trying to get me off the team then?" he demanded.

"Of course not," Harry said firmly, "I hope you stay on the team. But if we want to win the Quidditch Cup, it's important to have the best on the team. Even I'll be trying out, and if we find someone who is a better Seeker than me, then I'll be on the reserve team."

Ron didn't seem to have anything to say that, and simply stormed away. Harry shook his head slightly at his 'best' friend's antics, and headed down to the Great Hall to eat before his meeting with Snape. The Potions Master was in the Great Hall for this meal and looking sourer than Harry had ever seen him before, his beady black eyes searching every student, looking for signs of involvement in the attack on his son.

"He wants to have every student's wand tested for the curses that were used on his son," Neville whispered to Harry when he saw where the other boy was looking. "But Dumbledore said no, because Snape has always been opposed to that suggestion when other students were cursed and it Slytherin involvement was suspected. He told Snape that if he wants that privilege for his son, he'll have to agree that everyone in the school has the same right."

"Why are you whispering?" Harry whispered back.

"Snape's really angry. He might give me detention for talking too loudly," Neville replied, voice still hushed.

"Oh," Harry started speaking normally again. "He really does look _very_ angry, and I've got detention with him tonight!" he tried to sound dismayed, and thought he did a reasonable job of pulling it off.

"Unlucky," Neville said sympathetically. Harry nodded absently, his thoughts straying in the same direction as Snape's must have – who had been behind the attack on Sebastian?

Not long after, Snape rose from his seat at the staff table and swept from the Hall, sending a meaningful look in Harry's direction. "See you later," Harry said to Neville, standing up and following Snape from Hall. The volume of conversation increased significantly as soon as Snape left the room, Harry noted distantly as he followed the Professor down into the dungeons.

As soon as the office door closed, Snape was standing in front of Harry, wand resting on the teenager's nose and eyes filled with a dangerously cold anger. "If I ever find out that you were involved in the attack on my son, Potter, you will pay," he hissed.

Harry made no attempt to feign emotion, and gazed back at Snape with suddenly cold, dead eyes. Snape took a half-step back, alarmed by the look that Harry leveled on him. "I promise you Professor Snape, that I had nothing to do with the attack on your son, nor would I ever condone such actions. I know what it is like to be punished for my father's sins, and I would not put another person through that."

For a long moment Harry and Snape looked at each other, and Harry forced some warmth, some life, back into his eyes. Finally Snape nodded, uncomfortable, and turned his back on Harry to walk behind his desk. Harry relaxed imperceptibly and waiting for his teacher to make the next move.

"Your performance today in Potions was adequate, Potter," Snape informed him sourly. "I expect you to perform _at least_ to that level in both official and unofficial lessons. I suppose you made no attempt to practice Occlumency over the summer?"

"I did some reading on the subject, and tried to work through some of it on my own; I'm not entirely sure how successful I was. I found another way to protect my mind while I slept, and if Voldemort has attempted to enter my mind while I was awake, I haven't noticed," Harry responded.

"Do not use the Dark Lords name in my presence again," Snape ordered, drawing his wand again. "_Legilimenes_," he incanted without warning, and Harry felt Snape enter his mind. The Potions Master slammed up against the natural shield, and Harry could feel him questing against it, trying in vain to get inside. Finally, Snape broke the spell and frowned at Harry.

"What book did you read to make a shield like that?" he demanded.

Harry hesitated; he hadn't thought much of the natural vampire Occlumency shield that Charles had told him about until now. If he was reading the situation correctly, it wasn't the sort of shield a normal witch or wizard would create, but he didn't have a lie made up. He shrugged uncomfortably, "There were a few books, I just tried to figure out what worked for me and this is what I ended up with. Will it work?"

Snape continued to look at him suspiciously for a long moment, and Harry met his eyes unwaveringly. "I would like to read the books you speak of," Snape said finally. "Your shield should be adequate to keep the Dark Lord from your mind at a distance; I am less certain that it will work if you are stupid enough to confront him in person again – which I am sure you will be."

"I will see what I can do about getting you those books sir. They belonged to a friend I was staying with over the holidays, I am not sure if he will part with all of them, but I will try. It is important that I am able to defend my mind from anyone who would seek to access it."

It was easy to see that Snape wanted to push Harry more, to try and find out how the shield worked, but Harry wasn't going to let that happen. "If my shields are adequate at present, perhaps we could work on Potions?" he suggested coolly. "You have made it very clear that I still need to prove my ability in that field."

The rest of the evening passed surprisingly well; Snape gave him a potion from the previous year to work on, and settled in to make as many caustic remarks as he could; Harry either ignored the gibes, or responded as politely as possible – he was interested to note that Snape seemed to find politeness even more infuriating than answering back. It was definitely something to remember if he wanted to annoy the man when he got his emotions back.

He finished the potion easily; it was surprising how much difference it made not getting riled up by Snape's vitriol, or perhaps it was just the practice that he had gotten over the summer. Snape gave the sample of potion that Harry provided him with a look of disgust – which Harry took to mean he had done well – and dismissed Harry for the night.

"You will return on Thursday to make another potion and I will conduct a more thorough test of your shield then," Snape informed him. "You will also write a report on the effects of the Draught of Peace-" he was interrupted by Harry reaching into his bag and pulling out a stack of paper.

"I took the liberty of going over all the essays you set us last year, sir," Harry said quietly, depositing the pile on Snape's desk. "I redid all of them to the best of my ability." Snape gave the essays of look of pure loathing, but nodded in dismissal.

* * *

Barely five minutes after he had managed to get rid of the infuriating boy, Snape stalked into Dumbledore's office. "Severus," the Headmaster greeted him jovially, unwrapping one of his vile Muggle sweets and offering a bowl of them to Snape, who waved them away.

"I just had my first … lesson … with the Potter brat," Snape announced, drawing himself up a chair and sitting slowly.

"Really Severus, is it so much to ask that you treat him with respect?"

"I will respect him when he gives me a reason to," Snape snarled, refusing to admit, even to himself, that Potter had been nothing but respectful tonight. "In any case, I started with Occlumency as you suggested I should; over the summer Potter's mind has developed some very interesting natural shields."

"Impossible," Dumbledore said flatly.

"So I would have thought. Potter tried to pass them off, said that he had been reading up on Occlumency over the summer and that his shields were the result of working through some of the exercises mentioned … but the mind does not naturally create defenses such as the ones he has. He is obviously aware of their existence, and I am certain that he knows how they came out, and is choosing to lie about it."

"Did you find anything in his mind to suggest why he would want to lie about it? I assume something connected with his location over the summer."

Snape shook his head angrily, "You don't understand. I _couldn't get into his mind_, Albus. There was just a … wall. Completely impenetrable, it surrounds his mind completely, I couldn't even read his surface thoughts, it's as though there is nothing there!"

"Impossible," Dumbledore said again, but it was almost a whisper this time, lacking any real conviction.

"I know what I felt, Albus! As I said, it is no natural shield. Any shield would allow at least surface thoughts to drift through; you can't maintain a barrier around all of your thoughts, just the most important ones!" Snape felt almost guilty for not telling Dumbledore that he had seen such a shield before, but some things more important than his loyalty to Dumbledore.

"Interesting. Perhaps he was keeping his shields up on purpose because he does not trust you," Dumbledore mused, "It's possible that I might have more success at getting through the barrier."

"If you want to discover his location over the summer that desperately, then go ahead. I'll be happy to wash my hands of the matter. I have asked Potter to bring the books he said he studied to me, but I doubt he will; he spun some story about them belonging to a friend who may not allow them to be sent here."

"I want you to keep trying to get through, see if you can break through the shield," Dumbledore ordered, "I will see if I can get his permission to try and get through as well. We need to know where he was over summer if we are to make sure that he is safe there. I know that he intends to return there."

Snape only shrugged. It didn't bother him if Potter was safe or not. Of course, any chance to get into the brat's mind and find the most painful memories he could would be welcomed with open arms.

"How is Sebastian doing?" Dumbledore changed the subject suddenly, and Snape gave a faint smile at the thought of his son; the smile turned into a scowl when he recalled what had happened to his son that day.

"As well as can be expected," Snape sighed, "He doesn't know who attacked him, and he's very upset by the whole ordeal, but Pomfrey fixed him up fairly quickly and he'll be back in classes tomorrow. I was very much hoping he would be in Slytherin; my snakes would be able to take care of him if he were in their house, as it is I get the impression that they felt he _should_ have been in their house and feel betrayed by the fact that he ended up in Ravenclaw. I sense that they are unlikely to try and help him now, although I don't think any of them would be so stupid as to actually harm him."

"It is a shame you have made yourself so hated by the students," Dumbledore mused, and Snape glared at him.

"Whose idea was that? You are the one who suggested that I favour the children of Death Eaters, particularly those who were in Slytherin. It was just one more way of maintaining my mask, making me seem like I was on their side."

"And perhaps I was wrong to do so," Dumbledore admitted. Years as a spy stopped Snape from showing just how surprising that statement had been; Dumbledore almost never admitted to his mistakes, the Potter brat must have shaken him badly.

"If that was all, I've things yet to do tonight and still need to sleep before classes tomorrow."

"Of course my dear boy, there will be plenty of time for us to talk tomorrow if I think of anything else to do about young Harry," Dumbledore nodded his dismissal and Snape made good his opportunity to escape. He had so much on his mind already, and it was only the first day back. Oh how he hated teaching sometimes.

* * *

Harry was the first Gryffindor to arrive in the Great Hall the next morning, although a few students from other houses were up and about. He noticed that Zabini was one of the few Slytherin's to be up this early; the black boy was sitting at the far end of his table and ignoring his housemates entirely.

Today looked to have a promising start – Harry had Political Studies first and was looking forward to seeing what the lesson was going to be about. While he made a start on his breakfast, Harry also took out parchment, ink and a quill to draft a quick letter to the Minister, to let 'Rufus' know that he would be able to get away from Hogwarts to visit the Ministry on occasion, so long as it didn't interfere with his school work.

Eventually he was joined by other sixth year students, Neville coming over to sit with him again. Ron and Hermione were amongst the last ones down; Harry overheard them talking about their morning classes and was vaguely relieved that Ron was taking Care of Magical Creatures and therefore would not be in the Political Studies course. Hermione was taking Arithmancy instead.

Neville, on the other hand, _was_ taking Political Studies, "Really?" Harry asked, thinking that it didn't really fit with his knowledge of Neville.

"Well, it's got to be better than getting eaten by something in Care of Magical Creatures," Neville joked, and Harry barely remembered in time to smile in agreement. "Seriously though, my gran insisted. Political Studies has always been part of the sixth year curriculum, it's supposed to help the Heirs of Ancient and/or Noble Houses prepare for coming into their Inheritances. In the past hundred or so years the class has been gaining popularity outside of Pureblood circles, but since I'm the Heir of the Noble House of Longbottom I have to take it."

Harry frowned slightly; there was that 'Inheritances' again, he really had to look those up soon. It had been easy to overlook after hearing it in Sirius's Will, but now that it had been brought up several times he really needed to find out what they were. "I guess you're taking the course because you're the Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter?" Neville continued innocently.

Harry supposed that if his emotions had been functioning as they should, this statement might have caused him to choke on his pumpkin juice. As it was, he finished swallowing calmly and considered the statement. It wasn't really anything that had occurred to him before; he had always known his father was Pureblood, but he had never given any thought to what that might mean.

Over the summer he had become much more aware of how prestigious his family had been in the past, but it still hadn't sunk in, despite all of Charles' comments about trying to build up the family name again, that he was the last – mostly – living member of the House. Charles had certainly never really pushed the issue, and Harry hadn't been interested enough to keep looking into it.

One thing was for sure: he had to find out more about what being an Heir to an Ancient and Most Noble House meant.

"You still here Harry?" Neville interrupted his thoughts.

Harry turned to him and plastered a smile on his face, "Yeah sorry. I'm taking the course because I'm the Potter Heir," he agreed, once he had remembered what Neville had been talking about. Neville nodded, satisfied, and returned to his breakfast, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

He was somewhat surprised that Charles hadn't said anything about it, but then, before his run-in with the Carcer de Malus, Harry hadn't exactly been happy to talk about his fame or the potential for political power. Charles had undoubtedly chosen to leave that discussion for another time. _After_ his run-in with the Carcer, Harry simply hadn't been interested in anything as human as the Potter family standing.

When he had brought up Inheritances though, Charles had been reticent to go into detail on them, Harry recalled. That could have been the perfect opportunity to talk about the Potter Family and what it meant for Harry to be the Heir … it would have even tied in well with his goals of becoming a stronger political figure.

With a slight shake of his head, Harry dismissed the thought. He would write to Charles tonight and see what his Sire had to say on the subject, there was no use in chasing questions around in circles all day. "We should get up to the classroom," Harry said to Neville, suddenly realizing the time.

Neville nodded and the two of them stood up, heading out of the Great Hall. Outside the Political Studies classroom was a surprisingly large group of people; all of the sixth year Slytherins, a smattering of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws; he and Neville were the only Gryffindors present. "Is that because fewer Heirs are in our house?" Harry asked Neville quietly.

"No, just not in our year," Neville answered, "The Weasley Heir was Bill, he would have taken this class, as would Charlie. Percy was a bit of a pompous arse, so I expect he took it as well just in case. Ron doesn't strike me as the kind to be interested and the other boys in our year are Muggleborn or half-blood. None of the Pureblood girls seemed interested, and Hermione chose Arithmancy instead."

Harry nodded slightly. He would have to remember that Neville actually knew a lot about all the Pureblood stuff; the sorts of things that Ron never seemed interested in talking about. His thoughts were interrupted when the classroom door swung open. Harry and Neville took seats in the middle of the room, and Harry was slightly surprised when Blaise Zabini took the seat on his other side.

From the looks of things, the teacher wasn't in the room yet. Harry looked carefully around the room, vaguely aware that the rest of the class was also searching for the teacher. Harry was more interested in the decorations of the classroom: most of their other rooms he had been in had very little in the way of decoration, but not this place.

There were lots of pictures of different politicians, miniature versions of at least a dozen Pureblood family tapestries – Harry noticed the Potter one was right behind the teacher's desk – and all of the portraits in this room seemed to be unusually full of people, not just the normal occupants.

Finally an almost invisible door beside the blackboard opened and a slender young man entered. Harry looked him over with interest: he was tall – a little taller than Harry – with long black hair that fell loosely down his back, his features were handsome in an almost girlish way and he moved with all the elegant grace of a Pureblood.

"Welcome to Political Studies," he said; his voice was soft, pleasant, and he enunciated all of his words very clearly. "I am Professor Lenoir. I spend the majority of my time in France, and have access to a very specialized form of transportation to bring me to Hogwarts for these lessons, so you will not see me around the school.

"This class has traditionally been based around the core Pureblood families and their history, as well as teaching you a little about Inheritances and how they work, what is expected of young Purebloods when they come of age and enter the social scene, social expectations and power structures, and occasionally covering how one would go about taking control of an Ancient or Most Noble House.

"In more recent years, our political scene has become less the province of those with so called Pure Blood, and we have an increasing number of half bloods and Muggleborn's taking positions in the Ministry and rising fast and far. This has led to Dumbledore gaining the support of the Board of Governors in changing the nature of the course so that non-Pureblood students will also stand to gain from being involved.

"The course we will be following therefore will include a more compacted version of the one I already outlined, as well as a fairly extensive section on the Ministry of Magic, how it works and what the departments are for, as well as an in-depth look at our foreign policy and diplomatic relations with other countries; we will also do a brief overview of the changing view society has on Blood. As I imagine it will be the most controversial section of the course, and therefore most interesting to me, we will begin with a discussion on blood purity.

"I will begin by explaining how blood purity started. In ancient times, wizards considered themselves to be above their non-magical counterparts. They felt that magic made them better than those they termed 'Muggles', and held that a child born of a union between a wizard a Muggle would be an abomination, incapable of magic, yet by blood part of our society.

"For thousands of years this belief continued, but, of course, there were always those who fell in love with Muggles, who married and had children, who felt that their new families were worth leaving the magical world forever. The number of those people grew over time, as it does, and some of them were found out by the magical society, and executed along with their families.

"Not long after the first of these executions, a child was born of a magical couple who had no ability to perform magic himself – the first Squib, as they would come to be known. This child was held up to the Wizarding World as an example of what would come from interbreeding with non-magical folk.

"A great deal more time passed, and even though we had apparently stamped out the inter-breeding with Muggles, Squibs were still born from time to time, and some of the lower members of society – the less rich, or least magically powerful – who had difficulty in getting approval for marriages began to marry Muggles, usually exceptionally rich or exceptionally beautiful ones. This started a growing trend, although the members of older Pureblood families retain the desire to marry and reproduce only with members of similar social standing.

"You may have noticed I did not give a time frame for when the first Muggleborn appeared; this is because no one is entirely sure when it happened, as in those days we had very little awareness or concern for Muggles, and no way of tracing magic as we do now. There was no apparent need for that."

Professor Lenoir glanced at his watch and sighed. "I am afraid the 'discussion' part of this lesson will have to wait, as we are out of time. I would like you to read the first chapter of the text _Pure Mania_, and also write a brief essay outlining your personal view on the subject. You are dismissed."

The bell rang while they were packing up their things, and Professor Lenoir vanished through the door beside the blackboard. "That was interesting," Harry remarked. "I didn't actually know how the whole blood purity stuff started."

"I think I'm going to like his teaching style," Zabini agreed, "Of course, it's a little too early to tell, but it looks like he won't be alienating the Purebloods, and still keep the Halfblood's and Muggleborn's happy with the content matter."

"He does seem like he's going to be an interesting teacher," Neville agreed cautiously, seeming surprised to be having a polite exchange with a Slytherin.

"Indeed. See you in Potions, Potter. My 'master' is calling," he sauntered off in the direction of Draco Malfoy, who was glaring at him from just outside the classroom door.

"What was _that_ about?" Neville asked.

"Snape has us all in inter-house pairs in Potions. He told us that he expects us to leave House rivalries outside his classroom and figures a way to promote that will be to have us working together. Zabini is my partner for this term at least," Harry explained.

"_Snape_ is promoting House unity?" Neville repeated dubiously.

"I think it's only for the advanced Potions course, because he can't be bothered with us attempting to sabotage each other's potions and the like," Harry admitted, "But it's interesting that it comes from him; none of the other teachers seem particularly concerned."

* * *

The rest of the week passed quickly. Transfiguration and Charms were concentrating mainly on silent casting; McGonagall and Flitwick were teaching them the basic principles and having them practice on very basic first year spells for the first couple of weeks, but had promised that they would be working on new spells as well very soon.

Harry was awarded with points from both professors when he demonstrated aptitude with silent casting, and very quietly turned his attention to helping his classmates to master it as well. Hermione and Ron were the only two students who didn't allow him to help them: Ron because he was still angry and Hermione because she was determined to do it on her own, or at least with only the teacher's help.

All in all, Harry decided as he left the library on Friday afternoon after finishing the last of his homework for the week, it had been a pretty good first week back at school. He had Dumbledore slightly on the wrong foot and trying to earn his trust, Snape and Malfoy confused by his sudden lack of response to their taunts, his two new teachers for the year seemed both interesting and talented and no one had figured out that he was half-vampire, although he was sure that he wasn't hiding his emotional state as well as he could be.

* * *

_Dear Charles,_

_It has been difficult not to write you with every tiny detail of each of my days since I got back to Hogwarts; I wish that you were here with me, to share a meal and a game of chess and to talk about things honestly. As per my first letter, things are mostly under control here, although a number of interesting things have happened._

_Dumbledore is still suspicious of me; after my Occlumency lesson with Snape – he could not get through my shields, but I think he knows that I didn't actually make them myself – Dumbledore called me to his office and asked me for permission to try and get through my shields. He said he wanted to test them against a stronger mind than Snape's. I agreed, but he was unable to breach them._

_It is my belief that he had intended on letting Snape break into my mind and forcibly extract all of my memories of the summer so that he would know where I was and be able to find me should I try to return. When Snape failed he decided to try himself, and now he really is at a loss on how to get the information out of me. Serves him right, really, he should have listened to start with. He is very lucky that I am in the state I am, or I think I would be rather angry with him._

_While I am – loosely – on the subject of Snape, he actually has a son! It caused quite a stir at the sorting ceremony, his name is Sebastian and he was sorted into Ravenclaw. He is not having an easy time of it this year; he has wound up in the hospital wing twice after being attacked by older students. Snape is on a warpath, and I think that will be enough to convince most older students that hurting his son is not worth what will happen should they get caught._

_More interesting, as far as I am concerned, is the fact that the son is not like the other students, or the father for that matter. There is something about him that reminds me of home, something in his scent that brings you to mind, although I am certain that he is not a vampire; he isn't that like you. I am hoping that you will have some insight, as trying to figure him out is becoming quite frustrating._

_Oh, and I have Dumbledore's permission to research the Carcer – and other things, though I did not mention those to him – in the Restricted Section of the library. He has given me a pass so that I can go there at any time and look at any books I wish. If Hermione was talking to me should be ecstatic._

_On that note, Ron and Hermione are still not talking to me, although it is much more Ron and Hermione. She told me the other day that she doesn't want to antagonize Ron by talking to me openly, but she is trying to get it through to him that he still wants to be friends with me, and to just get over it and start talking to me again. I have simply been spending more time with Neville and Luna._

_Classes are going well. Defence is actually being taught by someone I know. Her name is Fleur Delacour, I competed with her in the TriWizard Tournament two years ago, and she is part Veela. She is engaged to Bill Weasley, Ron's oldest brother. Just before our first class, she told me that she needed to find out if I was worthy of being told … something, but we were interrupted by the rest of the class, and I have not managed to find her since._

_Political Studies is being taught by a Professor Lenoir. He is currently teaching us about where the whole Pureblood mania came from, and getting us to express our own opinions on the subject. I have mostly kept quiet, although I did mention that the smartest witch in our year is a Muggleborn. Malfoy is talking a lot about his family and tries to make a lot of derogatory remarks; Professor Lenoir encourages us all to speak on the subject and doesn't tell us off for having opinions, although he does give Malfoy detention for using the term 'Mudblood'. I am looking forward the rest of the class; we will be covering a lot of interesting topics._

_Many of the former members of DA have come to me and asked me to continue with the club. I am thinking that I will take it up again in another two or three weeks; give everyone a chance to settle in to school again and all of that._

_I will be holding tryouts for the Quidditch team next Thursday afternoon; I am aiming to get a full reserve team, in case of accidents. It will also make training much easier, as we will be able to have actual games against another team and improve both sets of players at the same time … provided I can find enough people!_

_The Minister has asked me to go meet with him again on Saturday morning, Dumbledore wasn't happy about it, but he has agreed to let me go. He really wants to get back in my good books, and when he realized that he couldn't talk me out of it he agreed fairly quickly. I will send you another letter on Saturday evening to let you know how that went._

_How goes your own research? I think I have done fairly well at convincing people that the changes in me this year are the fairly normal result of growing up, but I am not sure how long I will be able to keep up the façade._

_All my love,_

_Harry._

* * *

Last Edited 19 June 2008

I'm so sorry that this has taken so long to come out! I had a hell of a time trying to convince Rhiannon to come back, but she was very stubborn and ended up convincing me to bring Professor Lenoir in for the moment. I will try to bring her in again later, as she was quite a character. I've also been quite busy with work this week, and might be quite busy next week as well, which significantly cuts in to writing time. I'll try and remember to take the story home this weekend and see if I can get chapter 15 done.

This story just needs another 73 reviews to overtake Shines A Light, which is quite exciting. Four hundred and fifteen reviews for the first 13 chapters of this story is doing pretty damn well, I think! I am looking forward to seeing your responses to this chapter, and to encourage this, here's a new question:

_What is your opinion on the Harry/Ginny ship?_

I know, kind of lame. I'm running out of awesome questions to ask though, hopefully I'll be able to think of some and plan ahead with them so that I don't get put on the spot at the end of the chapter.

As always, thanks for reading.

WolfMoon


	15. Ministry Visit

Disclaimer: Not Mine

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter Fifteen: Ministry Visit

Harry woke early on Saturday morning; his sleeping habits had made the transition back to school very easy on him; he had plenty of time to finish his homework, do his extra-curricular research and had still had time to start on a lesson plan for DA.

The common room was still empty when he came downstairs; unsurprising considering that it was just past sunrise. Harry looked around, trying to decide what he should do now. His meeting with the Minister wasn't until eleven and he had already finished all of his homework. He briefly considered going down to the library to see what information he could find on the Carcer, but decided against it – Madam Pince probably wouldn't have the library open yet.

A short time later, Harry slipped through the castle doors and out on to the grounds. He wasn't sure what he was going to do out here, but it felt right. He walked past the greenhouses, noticing Hagrid's cabin out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look at it, realizing that he hadn't been to see the half-giant yet this school year – he made a mental note to do so soon.

The Quidditch pitch, Harry decided, was as good a destination as any, and headed in that direction. As he walked, he was considering summoning his Firebolt from the Gryffindor tower, but he was distracted when he saw someone moving on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He focused on the figure, and immediately recognized the long silver-blond hair.

What was Fleur doing near the Forbidden Forest so early in the morning? Her words from earlier in the week came back to him: _There are things you need to know … things you need to learn … I had to find out if you were worthy of knowing them_.

He still hadn't had a chance to speak with her about them; he had had not managed to get to the Defence rooms ahead of his classmates, nor had he ever seen her alone in the hallways or at meal times. He had gone to her office once, but there had been no answer when he had knocked.

He started jogging toward her, realizing as he got closer to her that she was engaged in an exercise that seemed similar to Tae-Kwon-Do. He slowed down as he approached, admiring the easy way she moved between positions. "'Ello 'Arry," she greeted him, her accent back in force and her voice a little distant.

"Good morning Professor," Harry returned.

"Please, we are not in class. Call me Fleur. Would you care to join me?"

"What are you doing?" Harry enquired.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and for a moment time and space seemed to freeze. There was something totally alien in her eyes, a strange, unknowable power that caught and held him. Then she blinked, and it released him. "Some exercises – I understand you were learning Tae-Kwon-Do over the summer?" she had lost the French accent again.

Harry nodded and walked to stand beside her, letting himself fall into the routine of Kata. He let his eyes close, occasionally opening them again just to check her position, but for the most part lost in the exercise. He had no idea how much time passed before the two of them stopped as one and opened their eyes. He caught the briefest flicker of that strange power again, but it was gone almost before he had noticed it.

They looked at each other in silence for a long moment before Fleur broke it with a quiet sigh. "You really do almost make me wish I wasn't engaged," she told him, "But my darling Bill is worth it – like you he is immune to my Veela aura. You have that in common, thankfully."

"Fleur …"

"You want to know what I meant when I spoke to you before our first lesson," she guessed correctly, turning away from him abruptly. "I should not have spoken, it is not yet time. But something in your eyes … it compelled me; I had to speak even though I knew that I should keep my silence."

"What is that I need to learn?" Harry asked.

"I cannot tell you," Fleur said, sighing again. "I have been avoiding thinking about it all week, as though I could forget how badly I had slipped if I did not see you, did not talk about it. But then I realized that we are to spend the year in the castle together. It would not have been possible to avoid you forever."

Harry nodded slightly. "Will you ever tell me what you meant?" he asked.

She shrugged, shaking back her hair, "I may, and I may not. But rest assured, Harry Potter, you will learn the meaning of my words, if not from me then from another. Am I right in thinking that you will find the wait more bearable than you would have had I approached you … last year, say?"

Harry just smiled at her, and she laughed. "Truly, I cannot expect an answer to that when I will not give you the answers you seek," she agreed. "It was nice to practice with you, Harry. Perhaps you would like to join me out here more often? I come every morning."

"Perhaps," he said, nodding.

"We should return to the school. They will be serving breakfast any minute now," Fleur said, giving a slightly pointed glance in the direction of the sun. Harry nodded and the two of them walked back up to the castle; they were still amongst the first to find their seats in the Great Hall, though Harry still received envious looks from the few males present.

Hermione came down not long after and sat beside Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Good morning," Harry said politely.

"Good morning Harry," Hermione returned. "Look, I just want to say again how sorry I am for the way Ron's acting, but I really don't want to make him more upset by talking to you when he's around-"

"It's alright Hermione," Harry interrupted her. "I know that Ron is prone to over-reacting and he's always been jealous of my attention and trust. It's obviously a very big deal for him that there is something I won't talk to him about, I knew that when I chose the path I have. I just hope that he will get over it soon."

Hermione sighed, "I hope so too, I miss hanging out with both of you. I think he will, he just needs to get his head around things, and once he realizes that you aren't going to tell anyone else either, I think he might start getting over it."

Harry nodded, and Hermione looked at him intently, "You aren't nearly as upset by this as I thought you would be," she said accusingly, "Is something wrong?"

Harry forced a smile, "Nothing's wrong Hermione," he assured her, "I just did some growing up over the summer. Accepting Ron's behaviour toward me is part of that. I have to take responsibility for my own actions – I knew Ron wouldn't like my decision and I also knew it was the right decision to make so now I have to be alright with how things are turning out."

Hermione gave a very impressed look, before she checked her watch and sighed. "I should probably go and sit somewhere else. Ron will be down soon and he'll have a fit if he sees me with you. I really hope he gets over this soon."

Harry nodded and returned to his breakfast as Hermione walked away.

* * *

Harry gazed calmly around the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic while he waited in line to get his wand checked. All the damage done by the fight between Dumbledore and Voldemort – and to a lesser extent himself and Voldemort – had been cleared away. The Fountain of Magical Brethren had been removed; apparently they hadn't been able to fix it.

The Minister had warned him that he would be likely to be in the public eye during this visit, in the short note he'd sent accompanying the Portkey, so Harry was dressed in his favourite set of dress robes and had made a reasonable effort to make his hair look presentable, and had brushed it so that his scar was actually easily visible, although no one seemed to have noticed who he was yet.

Harry was in the Atrium for almost five minutes before someone near him the crowd finally clicked, "Is that … Harry Potter?"

And that was that.

Suddenly everyone was turning to look at him, pointing and exclaiming with growing fervor. The Ministry officials checking the wands were craning their heads, trying to see what the commotion was about. Through it all, Harry stood, smiling as warmly as he could at the people who were pointing at him, proudly sporting a badge that read: _Harry Potter – Conference with the Minister_.

It didn't take long for the Ministry officials to figure out what was going on, and then two of the Aurors standing guard in the Atrium were pushing through the crowd – with the least force they could get away with – and escorting Harry to the front of the desk, muttering things like "_Important guest of the Minister_" and "_Chosen One, you know, shouldn't be standing in line after everything he's done_".

The crowd parted unwillingly, people were pushing forward, trying to get a better view of Harry Potter, some reaching out to touch him others calling their names as though they thought he would remember. Harry offered his wand to the Ministry official he came to, and the man tried to wave him through without it.

"Please check my wand, Sir," Harry said politely, offering the wand again. "The rules here exist for a reason, and my fame should not excuse me from them." The official took the wand at that, and Harry heard a new set of exclamations go out in response to his words.

The Aurors stuck with him, navigating him through the corridors of the Ministry and to the lifts, which they entered with him. "Minister wouldn't forgive us if we didn't deliver you to his door Potter," one of them said, when Harry pointed out that they didn't need to follow him all the way.

"Plenty of Death Eaters or at least sympathizers of You-Know-Who made it into the Ministry during Fudge's reign," the other agreed, "And of course, any member of the public could be a sympathizer as well. In a crowded lift or hallway, an 'accident' could be a little easy to arrange."

Harry nodded. He recognized a lost argument when he saw one.

More corridors and another lift later he was hurried past a faintly startled Percy Weasley, who didn't get a chance to protest when the Aurors opened the door and escorted Harry straight into the Minister's office without so much as knocking.

The Minister was sitting with exaggerated nonchalance, and looked up from some paper work with an expression of feigned surprise. Harry might have been taken in by the act if his eyesight hadn't been good enough to catch the doodles the Minister had been using to decorate the borders of _Application to Revoke Centaur Rights_.

"Ah, Harry!" The man exclaimed brightly, surreptitiously flipping the report over as he stood and hurried around his desk, offering a hand to shake, which Harry took.

"Rufus," he returned.

"Weasley!" the Minister called through the open door, where Percy was looking a little confused, "Mr. Potter and I will require refreshments, if you could arrange them for them to be sent down to the Auror offices."

"Of course Minister," Percy buried his surprise quickly and busily tidied up his desk and hurried out of his office.

"You are dismissed, Auror Tonks and Auror Silver," the Minister added to the two Aurors escorting Harry. Harry turned to look at the female Auror escorting him, since he hadn't recognized her as someone already known to him. Tonks changed her features slightly, her hair returning to the vibrant pink it had been the last time Harry had seen her, and winked at him before she and her companion returned to their duties in the Atrium.

"Please Harry, take a seat," the Minister invited him, and Harry sat down in front of the large desk the Minister was working from.

"Did the _Application to Revoke Centaur Rights_ bore you, Rufus?" Harry enquired politely, watching as the Minister's hand jerked slightly in surprise as he was putting away a quill. "I must admit, Umbridge never did seem the type to make anything particularly riveting. I assume it was Umbridge who made the application, anyway."

The Minister hid his surprise well, "Yes, it was Umbridge who made the application," he admitted. "Having been forced to spend a year in her classes, I imagine you got a very first hand understanding of how … uninspired her methods can be. She is a very heavy handed woman."

"What is she hoping to achieve with her application, if you don't mind my asking?" Harry enquired politely.

"The exact nature of her application is, of course, confidential until such time as I consider it worthy of being put forward as a proposed law," the Minister returned. "In short, I believe she is proposing the revocation of all rights centaurs have as intelligent magical beasts, and proposes that we instigate a population cap on the species, which would entail culling the existing number down to a level that she considers both appropriate and 'safe'."

Harry smiled slightly, "Evidently she doesn't take well to receiving just returns for her insults," was his only comment.

"You were present when Ms Umbridge had her … unfortunate run in with the centaur herd at Hogwarts weren't you?" The Minister enquired curiously.

"I was," Harry nodded. "A good friend of mine, Hermione Granger, tricked her into accompanying us to the Forbidden Forest, where we ran into a centaur herd that we both knew where already rather annoyed with wizards in general. Professor Umbridge –as she was then- made several insulting comments about them, which I'm sure she realizes in retrospect was not the most intelligent move she could have made."

The Minister nodded, "One thing that was never made clear to me, Harry, was why your friend thought it appropriate to lure Ms Umbridge from the castle."

"Umbridge was convinced that Dumbledore had a secret weapon he was planning to use against the Ministry. She found Hermione and I attempting to contact Dumbledore over a vision I had had of Voldemort. When attempting to find out exactly what we were trying to tell Dumbledore, she came within a syllable of casting the Cruciatus Curse on me. That was when Hermione pretended to break, and lure Umbridge away."

"She attempted to cast the Cruciatus Curse on a minor?" the Minister repeated his voice suddenly cold and filled with danger, "In attempt to assuage her curiosity?"

Harry nodded. "You see, I think, why I had little interest in meeting with Fudge," he said coolly. "Umbridge also confessed to me that she had ordered the presence of the two Dementors that attacked myself and my cousin earlier that year, in order to try and get me expelled for using magic. That has been fairly indicative of my experiences with the Ministry up until now."

The Minister closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were full of cold purpose. "You have my word, Harry, that Dolores Umbridge will pay for her crimes against you and – I suspect – a number of your school mates."

"Thank you Rufus," Harry returned. "I suspect, though, that our conversation has veered slightly from its intended course?"

"Only a little," the Minister stated, "I had intended to spend at least a little while discussing how to improve Ministerial relations with you; I had no idea the previous administration had done so much damage. I must admit to some level of surprise that you could bring yourself to meet with me at all."

"I feel that it is important to present a united front in the war against Voldemort. You, Dumbledore and I must at least make every appearance of being on the same side. The public will need that reassurance in the days to come. While I could not have brought myself to support Fudge's administration, you were an unknown as far as I was concerned, and therefore worth a chance."

The Minister smiled, "I am glad you did give me that chance, and I agree with you entirely. We need to be as united as possible against … Voldemort if we hope to survive this war. I just wish that Dumbledore would see fit to acknowledge that as well."

"I am working on convincing him of the necessity," Harry assured him.

The Minister gave a pleased smile, "Excellent," he said. "We will have to make time for a chat about the other mistakes that Fudge made regarding you some time soon – I intend to put right everything he jeopardized with his behaviour … _Especially_ your relationship with the Ministry."

"But for now we have other things that need attention," Harry continued, standing as the Minister did.

"Indeed. I thought we could take a trip down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and give you a quick tour. There will be some members of the press there," the Minister added a warning, remembering how media-shy the young celebrity could be.

"Thank you for the warning Rufus, I had expected as much. We already touched the fact that you will want to publicize the steps you are taking to mend the fences with me on behalf of the Ministry," Harry said, perfectly calm.

The Minister nodded, "After you Harry," he said, gesturing to the doors. Harry stepped out and the Minister followed. Percy jumped to his feet when he saw his boss, ready for whatever the Minister might need from him.

"I will be back in an hour or so Weasley," Scrimgeour informed him, and Percy nodded quickly.

"I'll hold the fort while you're gone then," he said importantly. The Minster looked like he was hiding a smile as they left the office.

"You kept Percy on after Fudge left then?" Harry asked.

"In the end yes. He is a very interesting young man. He's not your run-of-the-mill sycophant – as long as I am his boss, he will agree with everything I say and do, rather than pretend to and go from there. As far as he is concerned I can do no wrong at all. It makes him a very dedicated employee, although I hope that he will grow a backbone sometime."

"Percy always has been a blind follower of authority," Harry agreed. "Also Rufus, you should tell me what it is exactly that you are hoping to achieve from the cleverly disguised press conference we about to hold. I do like to know what I'm getting into."

"Of course Harry. This isn't a particularly official visit, I'm sure you realize. We aren't aiming for over-publicity on this particular occasion. I am going to show you around the Auror headquarters and introduce to some of our best people in this field. If you could address me by name where the reporters can hear, that would be excellent, but really just be yourself."

Harry nodded. Today they were going for a subtle approach; Harry would be fairly impressed with the Aurors and be casual about addressing the Minister by his first name, which should be more than enough to keep the Minister happy. If he could find an opening to suggest some form of improvements for the Aurors, that would be even better, as it would further his own ends.

He and the Minister were both quiet as they walked toward the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, considering how the upcoming meeting would work in their favour. "I have warned the Aurors about our visit," the Minister said as he paused in front of the door that Harry knew led into the Auror offices. "I did, however, ask that they not give away that they were expecting it to happen today."

Harry nodded. "Let's do this then," he said.

Scrimgeour nodded, and pushed open the door to the Auror quarters. Both he and Harry blinked when it revealed a room full barely organised chaos. Aurors were rushing around the room, rapidly sorting themselves into groups. One member of each group was enchanting random objects that Harry suspected of being Portkeys, another was calling out a quick roll-call. Within each group they were divided into pairs, and each person was checking their partners gear quickly.

The Minister took a quick look around and strode over to one of the Aurors not forming part of a group, "Auror Shacklebolt, report," he demanded. Harry walked behind the Minister, wondering if this was part of the show or if something unexpected had occurred.

"Just received a report, large scale Death Eater force moving to attack a small Muggle settlement just outside of London sir," Shacklebolt's voice was utterly serious, and Harry knew immediately that this was no show put on for his benefit. "I have dispatched four squads, two will attack the Death Eater's outright, one will immediately set up anti-Apparation and anti-Portkey wards, as well as prepare to deal with the injured, and the fourth will pro-actively remove any Muggles from the line of fire, and assist with clean up. The Unspeakables have been notified and a squad of Obliviators will be heading to the location to assist with clean up."

Scrimgeour gave a sharp nod, "Good work Auror Shacklebolt. I had hoped to show Mr Potter around the department, but perhaps it isn't the best time right now …" even as he spoke, the four squads activated their Portkeys and vanished from sight. The noise level in the room dropped dramatically.

"We should be fine for a quick tour of the office Minister," Shacklebolt said, and turned to the woman standing next to him, a reporter to judge by the rapid notes she was taking, "Congratulations Mrs Goldfinch, you just got to witness first hand our revised Response Deployment programme. It is the goal of this programme to ensure that squads are deployed to crisis areas within five minutes of receiving an alert.

"We are currently able to send out up to ten squads of Aurors and Hit Wizards, fully briefed on what role they are to play in the attack, the four squads you just saw leave are the largest single force we've sent out to date, but we have the other six squads ready should they require back up, or if another alert is received. We hope that by the end of this year to have increased that number to twenty, and have a large number of recruits currently being trained in the effort of reaching this goal."

"Excuse me, Auror Shacklebolt," Harry interjected politely, and gave the Order member a swift smile when the man turned to face him. "I couldn't help but overhear your comments to Mrs Goldfinch – in attempting to get so many new Aurors on the scene so quickly, you won't be taking any shortcuts in their training, will you?"

Shacklebolt returned his smile, "Not at all. The new recruits will be completing a more rigorous training programme than the one they would previously have been put through, and any who fail to make the grade at the end of it, will simply repeat the programme until we are certain that they are up to standard. The last thing we want is for our numbers to be decreased on the field due to shoddy training."

Harry nodded slightly, "That's good to know. I only came in for the last part of deployment, but it looked like an impressively organized an operation, considering the number of people involved."

"Mr Potter?" the report turned her attention to him, and he acknowledged her with a slight smile. "I'm Julie Goldfinch, from the _Daily Prophet_, I was just wondering if I could get a brief statement from you about your impression of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"As I just said to Auror Shacklebolt, from what I just saw they seem to be really working to improve on the policies and procedures left over from the previous administration. Over the summer I read about a number of Death Eater attacks that were foiled by quick action from the Aurors and Hit Wizards.

"It's been a dream of mine to become an Auror after I graduate from Hogwarts, although last year I sort of felt that it might not be the best idea. I wanted to be out fighting Dark Wizards, not working with an administration that refused to acknowledge they exist. After the summer though, I definitely want to sign up when I graduate."

Mrs Goldfinch was scribbling frantically, trying to get all of Harry's words down even as she asked her next question, "A lot of people thought you might want to start playing Quidditch on a professional level once you leave Hogwarts – what are your thoughts on that front?"

Harry gave a slight shrug, "Quidditch is great and I really love it. I'm not sure I'm good enough to be recruited by a professional team, although it would be obviously be really cool if I was. I guess it really depends on what's happening with Voldemort-" he ignored her violent flinch, and the less obvious responses from the other people within earshot, "If the war is still going, then I will definitely want to put everything I have at my disposal into fighting him, but if he's already been dealt with, and a pro team asks me to join, then I might put becoming an Auror on hold, at least for a little while."

"What do you say in regards to the speculation about your being the Chosen One?" the reporter pressed, "Rumour has it that you were in the Department of Mysteries to learn about a prophecy concerning you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"I was in the Department of Mysteries because I had been led to believe that a good friend of mine was in danger," Harry told her firmly, "I came to try and rescue him, but it turned out to just be a ploy of Voldemort's. As to the Chosen One nonsense, you shouldn't believe everything rumour says."

"But-"

"Mrs Goldfinch," Harry stopped her with a raised hand, "I am at the Ministry today visiting with Rufu-the Minister and while we were talking it came up that I have always wanted to be an Auror. Minister Scrimgeour offered to show me around the Auror Headquarters and introduce me to a few of the top people in the Department, which is why I am here. I believe _you_ are here to have a bit of a tour as well, perhaps we could do so together, and save the questions you have for me for another time?"

"Oh, yes, of course," she managed to hide her disappointment at being cut off well, and Harry turned back to the Minister.

"Where do you think we should begin, Rufus?" Harry asked, deliberately using the Minister's name now that he wasn't talking to the reporter. Scrimgeour smiled approvingly at him.

"A good place to start, I think, would be Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt," the Minister replied, gesturing to the huge black man, quite unaware that Kingsley and Harry had already met. "Auror Shacklebolt has taken over from me as head of the Department, and is responsibly for implementing the new policies that the Ministry has been issuing in regards to Law Enforcement. He and I, along with several other members of the Department have frequent meetings to discuss how best to improve this department."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Auror Shacklebolt," Harry smiled, shaking hands with Kingsley. He and Mrs Goldfinch were shown around the department and introduced to a number of the on-duty Aurors, and had a number of the new policies carefully explained to them. Every time the reporter tried to turn the conversation around to areas of Harry's life that did not involve the Ministry, Harry politely returned to what he termed the 'important' topic.

By the end of it, he had made more than enough supportive comments about the Aurors, referred to the Minister several times by name and had asked a number of intelligent questions about how the department worked, along with slipping in a few suggestions in the form of questions that would hopefully bring about a few more changes in legislation.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed nearly two hours later, glancing at his watch. "Is that the time? Rufus, I've really enjoyed seeing how the Aurors work, and I'd _love_ to stay for longer, but Professor Dumbledore is expecting me back soon, and I've got commitments at school to keep over the weekend as well…" he trailed off.

"Of course Harry," the Minister said with a smile, "Your education is very important of course. Auror Shacklebolt, would Mr Potter be able to use your fireplace to Floo back to Hogwarts?"

"Of course Minister," Kingsley returned. "If you'd come with me, Mr Potter? Mrs Goldfinch, I'm sure you've got a number of questions for the Minister, would you mind being left in his capable hands for a few minutes while I see Mr Potter safely back to Hogwarts?"

"Of course," Mrs Goldfinch agreed quickly, turning her attention to the Minister while Kingsley led Harry away.

"That was well handled Harry," Kingsley said as he closed the door to his office behind them. "Dumbledore was worried that you were in out of depth, but after seeing you here, I have my doubts at all."

"You'll be reporting back to Dumbledore I assume?" Harry enquired politely.

"Of course," Kingsley nodded. "It's important that he knows as much as he can about everything that's going on in the war. The Floo powder is there," he added, gesturing to the fireplace.

"Thank you," Harry walked over and took a pinch. "I think you can expect to see me again; I want to see more of this Department and understand how it works, and Scrimgeour will want to make my interest and support as public as possible."

Kingsley nodded again. "Next time I will see if I can organize some of my Aurors to have some mock duels with you; might teach you some new tricks. I'm sure the Minister would be delighted at such a suggestion, as long as you were interested?"

"That would be brilliant. I need more practice at duelling," Harry agreed immediately. "I look forward to meeting you again, Auror Shacklebolt," he added, tossing the powder onto the fire. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard," he said clearly, and moments later found himself stumbling out of the fireplace in the Headmasters office. _Not_ where he'd hoped he would end up, but no matter.

"Ah, there you are Harry," Harry turned to look at the Headmaster. "How was your meeting with Scrimgeour?"

"It went very well. We spent some time talking, and he showed me around the Auror headquarters; some of the Aurors had to leave because they got word of a Death Eater raid, they were very efficient and well organised," Harry replied. "Kingsley was there for most of it, so I'm sure he can give you a better report when you see him next."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him.

Harry paused, actually considering the question very carefully. "Yes," he said finally, "Do you remember what you told us, after the Tri-Wizard tournament, after I'd watched Cedric die and Voldemort be reborn?" Dumbledore looked slightly confused, "You told us that we had to unite, that Voldemort thrived on dividing people. I am doing what I can to present a united front to Voldemort, one that won't break at the first push from him. Considering it was your advice in the first place, I'm surprised that you aren't doing the same."

Dumbledore frowned slightly, "This was not the response I was expecting when I gave that advice. I'm sure you realise that."

"I suppose you meant that we should all unite behind you?" Harry asked pointedly. "It doesn't matter who leads the fight, Dumbledore, as long as everyone is on the same side; if we try to fight this war on two fronts, then we will lose. I certainly won't pretend that I agree with everything that the Ministry does, but I can support the things I do believe in, and maybe by doing that I'll be able to get some of the things I really don't believe in changed for the better."

"I obviously can't talk you out of this, but please Harry … be careful," Dumbledore implored him. "The Minister is a politician through and through; don't promise him anything unless you are totally sure you understand what it will mean."

"I'm being careful, Headmaster," Harry replied. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I am sure you have many other things you want to get done this weekend," Dumbledore sighed, "If you ever decide that you want to trust me again, you know where to find me."

Harry just gave a slight smile and left the office. Once the gargoyle had returned to its position behind him, Harry paused, wondering exactly what he wanted to do now. As he stood there, he realised that he hadn't had a chance to go flying since he'd come back to Hogwarts, and decided to head back to the Gryffindor common room to get his broom.

"Hi Harry," Neville called as Harry climbed through the portrait hole.

"Hi Neville," Harry called back, walking over to join the other boy.

"Two letters arrived for you while you were out today," Neville said once Harry was close enough that he didn't need to yell. "Hedwig brought one, and an owl I've never seen before brought the other, straight to the common room. Ron was all for trying to read the one that Hedwig brought, so I got it first and kept it for you," he handed two letters to Harry, who gave him a –hopefully- thankful smile.

"Thanks for that Neville."

"No problem mate. Your mail is your business, if you wanted us to know, you'd tell us," Neville smiled tentatively back, as though he still couldn't quite believe the good terms that he and Harry were on this year. Harry glanced at the letters: the one Hedwig had brought was from Charles, and the writing on the second looked like Remus's.

"Thanks again," he said absently, turning away and hurrying up to the dorm with the letters. He opened the one from Charles first.

_Dear Harry,_

_I had thought of the natural mind-shields as an added protection for you at Hogwarts, they are so normal to me that I hadn't thought of how strange your Headmaster and Professor Snape would find them. I hope that it will not make things too difficult for you on that front._

_The Headmaster will not be able to get through your shields to find out what he wants to know about your summer, you are safe from that at least. I am sure that suspicion about the shields themselves will simply die down over time, when they can't find an explanation for it._

_Regarding your query on Snape's son, Sebastian, I suggest you look to the book I gave you. It will possibly be able to give the answer you are looking for. Since I had not seen or sensed him, I will only give the most obvious solution I can see: if he reminds you of me, but not entirely so, could it be possible that he is like you?_

_Keep me up to date on anything you discover about the Carcer de Malus, the more information I have regarding it, the quicker I can perfect this cure for you. I have been spending a great deal of my time working on it and researching it, and I believe that I am at least going forward, although it is difficult to be entirely sure._

_A Veela teacher? That does sound interesting. Have you noticed any difference in your emotional reaction to her, as compared with the one that you have for ordinary human beings? I wonder what it is that she would want to tell you – something to do with the French, or Veelas, or something else entirely? Keep me posted on this subject!_

_I hope that Political Studies goes well for you. Understanding the whole Pureblood mania would be beneficial for you – if you understand it, then you can deal with the people who believe in it. _

_Best of luck for your meeting with the Minister, I hope everything works out well there. Nothing particularly new to report from here; Lucy, Wilfred and I miss you and are looking forward to seeing you again at Christmas time._

_Love,_

_Charles._

Harry nearly slapped himself when he read the section about Sebastian Snape. It would make perfect sense if the boy was a half-vampire like Harry himself was … the only thing that didn't make sense was what an eleven year old was doing being Turned. Charles had nearly gotten in a lot of trouble for saving Harry's life by Turning him, and he was five years older than Sebastian was.

He would definitely have to try and find out more about the boy, especially the how and why of his Turning. The majority of the letter had been reasonably unimportant, but he supposed he hadn't really expected all that much to have happened at Potter Manor in a week.

Still, it was good to hear from Charles, and he read the letter twice anyway, before folding it up and stowing it in the hidden section of his trunk. He then unfolded the letter that Remus had sent him.

_Dear Harry,_

_First of all, please let me apologise for running away on you when you needed me the most. Losing Sirius hit me very hard, as I know it did you, and I should have been there for you so that we could grieve for him together. I suppose I had expected to see you at Grimmauld Place later in the summer, but of course that didn't happen. (I am sure that your friends and the Headmaster have told you off for that enough already, and I like to think that perhaps I know what you were going through a little better than them, and therefore will accept that you did what was best for you.)_

_I am afraid I will not be able to be here for you as much as I would like this year. Professor Dumbledore has me doing a number of errands for the old crowd, and this will take up a large amount of my time. I hope, however, that you will feel that you can write to me if you need anything. I want to make up for not being there for you in the summer, if you will let me._

_I hope that my running away will not damage our friendship irreparably._

_Yours,_

_Remus Lupin, aka Moony._

Briefly, Harry wondered whether Remus was responding to pressure from Dumbledore, trying to find out what Harry was hiding from him again, but he didn't think that Remus would go in for that kind of under-handed approach.

He put the letter down on his bedside table and made a mental note to respond to it later that evening. Picking up his Firebolt, he headed back out of the Gryffindor Tower and down the entrance hall.

He was almost at the doors when he heard a commotion rising from a corridor off to one side of the Hall. He paused for a moment then decided that he would go and see what was going on. He set his broom down quietly and walked down the corridor. As he came around a corner in the passageway, he saw a group of older students from a mix of Houses surrounding something on the floor.

Closer inspection told him that the something was in fact a student, and it took Harry only a moment to recognise it for Sebastian Snape, cowering against the wall and shielding his head – whether he was protecting himself from physical blows or spells, Harry wasn't sure.

Harry felt his blood starting to boil at the sight. He recognised a number of the older students – several of them were Gryffindors and he knew at least one of them was a Ravenclaw. Harry felt his teeth sharpening into fangs, and quickly tried to get in control of himself.

He stalked up to them, fingering his wand. "_What_ is going on here?" he demanded, and even to his own ears his voice was icy and cold, rare emotion stirred in his chest. If he had had any doubt at Charles assumption that Sebastian Snape was a half-vampire, it was immediately forgotten. No other creature could strike such a chord in Harry's heart.

The bullies spun, giving yelps of surprise and momentary fear. Fearful expressions melted into smiles when they realised that Harry wasn't a teacher. "We're teaching Snape's brat a lesson," the Ravenclaw boy said nastily, "Want to help out? Snape's never shown you any kindness Potter."

Harry bared his teeth in something close to a snarl, shoving the other students out of the way and putting himself between them and their quarry. "I have better things to do than terrorize an _eleven year old boy_ who never did anything to me," he told them, voice dripping with venom.

The students stepped back from him in surprise – this wasn't the response they'd expected. Harry turned and helped Sebastian to his feet. "Go to the hospital wing lad; Madam Promfrey should be able to fix you up pretty quick. Will you be able to get there on your own?"

Sebastian nodded, mumbling something even Harry couldn't catch, and bolting before Harry could ask him what it was. Harry turned his attention back to the bullies, who had the decency to look a little guilty now. Harry just gave them a disdainful glance.

"You disgust me," he informed them shortly. "You," he jabbed his wand at the Ravenclaw boy, and was gratified to see him jump a little, "He's in your _House_. You should be trying to help him, defend him, that's what Housemates are for. But all of you should know better. If I see – or hear – of anything like this happening again, the consequences will be most dire. You may inform any other people you know who take part in this obscene behaviour that I will do the same for _anyone_ I learn is bullying Sebastian Snape."

"What are you doing do then Potter? Get your friends together and attack us back?"

"I wouldn't lower myself to that level," Harry told them coldly, "If I hear of any more of this behaviour, I will take the names of anyone I ever hear is associated with this behaviour directly to his father. I'm sure Professor Snape would be interested in knowing the names of the people who are tormenting his son."

"You wouldn't," the Ravenclaw whispered, face paling.

"On the contrary, I will," Harry snarled coldly, "So make sure it doesn't happen. If I find out that Sebastian has been to the hospital wing again, I will report you to his father, so make sure no one else decides to take up where you left off. I am giving you only this one chance to avoid punishment."

The would-be bullies, relieved at the opportunity to get away, fled. With a sigh, Harry turned to go on his way to the Quidditch Pitch again. He had no doubts that the entire school would know that he had interfered with the bullies and seemed inclined to help Sebastian Snape by the time the day was over. He wondered, briefly, what the general response to his act would be.

Before Harry could even pick up his broom, a voice came from behind him. "Potter." Just that, but Harry knew immediately who it was. He turned around slowly as Professor Snape prow7led down the corridor towards him, robes swirling sinisterly about him.

"Professor Snape," Harry greeted in return, keeping his voice carefully neutral, wondering just how much of the exchange the Potions Master had seen.

"Why did you do that Potter?" Snape demanded, and Harry quickly concluded that Snape must have seen most of the scene that had just happened. Possibly the Potions Master had been about to interrupt on his son's behalf even as Harry had come barging in.

Harry thought about his answer for a moment, then looked directly at the teacher who had long been one of his greatest enemies at Hogwarts, second only to Draco Malfoy.

"Because I know what it is like to be punished for my father's crimes," he replied finally, stooping to pick up his broom and turn away. "Excuse me please Professor."

Edited 25 June 2008

Author Notes:

Done with this chapter, yay! It's a little longer than the last few, and again with a lot of new information being added to the story. I hope you enjoyed it. Once this uploaded, this should be my fourth longest story, just ahead of AtD: The Philosopher's Stone.

Also, I got an awesome 66 reviews last chapter! It was really great to read them all, especially the rants on how evil Harry/Ginny is. It has never been my intention to put those two together in this story; in fact, Ginny is unlikely to have much of a place in it at all. Sorry to the few of you who wanted to see them together.

Question for this chapter:

_Would you like to see Snape (the elder) and Harry become actual allies in this story, or just come to tolerate each other with minimal bile?_

As I can't seem to keep Snape all snarky and nasty toward Harry, you don't get that option. He will get at least a little better in his treatment of Harry, but its at least somewhat up to you how far that goes. Mostly, it's up to how Snape comes out when I try to write him, but at least you get something resembling a say!

WolfMoon


	16. Settling Down

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter Sixteen: Settling Down

The front page of Sunday's _Daily Prophet_ had a large picture of Harry, Kingsley and the Minister standing in the Auror headquarters. Harry noted that unlike every other picture of him in such a situation, his photo-self seemed unperturbed by the publicity, and was enjoying its conversation.

He flicked through the newspaper, noting that almost half of the newspaper was spent talking about him, _mostly_ in relation to his visit to the Ministry. The reporter – Mrs Goldfinch? - had painted him up as the hero he seemed to be this year, and Harry figured that Scrimgeour would be happy with the response; the public loved Harry, Harry supported the Ministry, the public supported the Ministry.

The articles by Goldfinch were also remarkably accurate; she had added in passages of her own opinions, made reasonably well educated guesses at the answers to questions Harry had been unwilling to speak of. It was a pleasant change from Rita Skeeter's vitriol.

"The main articles are surprisingly good," Harry remarked to Neville as he folded the paper again. "Reasonably accurate, although a little _too_ flattering in places; I found the comments about my destiny being 'obviously in the DMLE' rather entertaining."

"No you didn't," Luna wandered over from the Ravenclaw table. "But don't worryy, I won't tell the Rotfangs … or Dumbledore. May I borrow your newspaper?" Harry handed it to her without a word, and watched her intensely as she flipped through the pages, "Daddy mentioned that there was evidence of the Lothwirt's reasserting their dominance of our world in the _Prophet _today," she remarked to neither of them in particular as she scanned the pages eagerly.

Harry didn't let her throw him off the scent so easily this time; all of last year he had mostly dismissed her as an often insane and always odd student who he didn't need to pay a great deal of attention to. Now, he wondered if he had been a little harsh in his dismissal of her. If he could remember, he would have to pay more attention to her this year.

"So, do you know what you're doing to do about DA yet?" Neville asked, while they waited for Luna to find whatever she was looking for.

"We're definitely going to start up again," Harry said, "I've been thinking about it a bit all week. I know that Fleur – sorry, Professor Delacor – said that we'd be doing some work with offensive and defensive spells, counter-curses and that sort of thing, but she also has to cover other things that won't necessarily be useful in a battle with Death Eaters. I'm going to continue DA to focus exclusively on fighting Death Eaters or other dark wizards."

"When are we starting?" Neville asked eagerly.

"I've got trials for the Quidditch team this Wednesday afternoon," Harry said thoughtfully, reviewing his schedule, "I know that Ravenclaw have already got their team organised and will be training on Fridays, I think Hufflepuff still need to get sorted but will be aiming for training on Tuesday afternoons, although I don't think they'll actually be busy _this_ Tuesday.

"I think I'll try and get the old group together on Thursday evening, after dinner. I want to talk to everyone and get some input on what we all want to learn about and when a good time to meet permanently will be, and a few other things as well. Does that sound alright to you guys?"

"Yes, that sounds good Harry," Luna said from behind the newspaper, while Neville nodded enthusiastically.

"Can you guys help me find everyone and let them know when the meeting time is?" Harry asked, "I want to talk to Ron, Hermione and Ginny about it, and I'll get to as many of the others as I can but …"

"We'll tell anyone we see," Neville promised, and Harry smiled thankfully.

"I've got to go and do some research in the library," he said, standing up, "You can keep the paper Luna, I'm done with it."

"Thank you Harry," Luna murmured.

"Do you want some company?" Neville asked, "What assignment are you researching anyway?"

"Um, not an assignment," Harry said, "I heard about something over the summer and I want to see what information I can find on it. At this point, I'd rather do that alone, if you don't mind?"

"That's fine, I should probably go and work on my Transfiguration stuff anyway," Neville sighed, "I've almost got the hang of silent casting in Charms, but it doesn't want to apply itself the way McGonagall says it should in Transfiguration."

"Try using the technique that Flitwick taught us," Harry suggested, "Different people use different techniques to master silent casting, maybe McGonagall's one just doesn't work for you."

"OK," Neville sounded doubtful, "I guess I could try that. Thanks Harry."

"You're welcome," Harry said, and set off for the library.

Entering Madam Pince's domain made him miss the library at Potter Manor. The Hogwarts Library had a larger collection of books on magic, but it had none of the welcoming feeling that the library at home did. He moved straight through the shelves, headed for the Restricted Section. If he was going to find any books on the Carcer, that's where they would be.

He had been in the Restricted Section for about ten minutes before Madam Pince found him, carefully flicking through each book he came across, searching for any reference to the Carcer de Mallus. "What are you doing in there?" she demanded suspiciously, "You don't look like one of the seventh years."

"I'm Harry Potter," he told her, "Dumbledore should have spoken to you about having given me permission to do research in here?"

She looked at him suspiciously for a long moment, but turned away without actually saying anything else. Harry returned to his browsing as soon as he realised that she wasn't going to protest him being there.

_This Prison of Evil is the foulest thing ever to grace the face of our planet. It was created for the sole purpose of destruction, and its creator went to great lengths to ensure that not a single part of it could be used for anything remotely resembling 'good'. It has been used by the most desperate, most powerful and most sadistic of self-styled 'Dark Lords' over time, the sow fear and terror and to destroy those who have the most chance of fighting back._

_They do not realise, I think, that while they can unlock the Carcer, they are bound to it for what remains of their existence, and that rarely lasts for long. Once its power source has died, the Carcer closes again. If it is not fed with the souls of humanity by the one who opens it, the Carcer will take others, people who are connected to its power source. It does not distinguish between friend and foe, and will take the followers of the Dark Lords as readily as his enemies._

_Legends holds that one who escapes the dread confines of this room will find the power to destroy it, and in those legends I find my hope, that one day this … thing will be destroyed and the world will be a far greater place for it._

It was the most promising entry Harry had found in hours and hours of searching through tomes for any form of information. Everything else was just the same comments that he and Charles had found a hundred times over. Harry had never read anything about the Dark Lord being bound to the Carcer once it was open, nor had he known that the Carcer would close once Voldemort was dead.

He pulled over a piece of parchment and carefully copied the passage on to it. He flicked through the rest of the book, but the author made no further note of the Carcer, so he returned it to the shelf with a sigh. Five hours of searching had revealed only this meagre passage.

Sighing quietly, Harry stretched and picked up the parchment he had copied the passage to. It was already dark outside and he still needed to send his findings to Charles. The corridors were deserted as Harry made his way to the Owlery – he was obviously pushing things by still being out this late.

The moment he entered the owlery Hedwig fluttered down to him, landing on his shoulder and nibbling affectionately on his ear for a moment. Harry folded up the parchment and spelled it so that no one but Charles would be able to open it. "Here girl, take this home for me?" he murmured softly to her, stroking her back gently.

She hooted softly and took off, winging away into the night. Harry stood by the owlery window and watched her flight until even his vampire-enhanced sight couldn't keep track of her any longer. He was about to return to the Gryffindor common room when he saw a movement on the grounds.

His sharp eyes quickly verified that the figure was human, young. It took him only a few seconds to realise that it was Sebastian Snape, heading straight toward the Forbidden Forest. Harry was already moving downstairs by the time that his mind gave him an explanation for the first year being outside so late: Sebastian was going to try and hunt animals for food.

He cursed softly under his breath, unconsciously moving faster, pushing his enhanced body to the limits as he raced down the stairs and exploded through the front doors and out onto the grounds. The moon chose that moment to come out from behind the clouds, bathing the grounds in light. The beauty of it was enough to, for a heartbeat, break through Harry's barriers and touch his heart.

Harry shoved the feeling away ruthlessly, he didn't have time to admire the view. His eyes swept the area around the forest, and he quickly spotted Sebastian, now only a few metres from the forests edge. Harry was running again in an instant, pushing every bit of energy he had into moving faster, and actually managed to reach Sebastian before the boy could get more than a step into the forests boundaries.

Sebastian spun around as he heard Harry's thundering footsteps, his eyes wide in surprised recognition as Harry skidded to a stop beside him, quickly regaining his breath. Sebastian looked like he was about to bolt, so Harry reached out to grasp his arm gently, just enough to prevent him from leaving.

"What are you doing out so late?" he asked the now quivering first year. He kept his voice perfectly polite, for all the world as though they weren't meeting on the borders of the Forbidden Forest after curfew.

"Umm … nothing?" Sebastian asked hesitantly, his fearful eyes begging Harry to believe him.

Harry arched an eyebrow in an aristocratic gesture he had picked up from Charles. "You are in the Forbidden Forest, at _night _of all stupid times to come out here. That's two rules broken already, and you really expect me to accept 'nothing' as an answer?"

"I guess not," Sebastian looked at his feet, refusing to meet Harry's eyes again. "But it's ok for me to be out here – my father said-"

"Your father would never have let you come somewhere as dangerous as this on your own," Harry interrupted him firmly. "It would take a blind person to miss how much he loves you. If he ever _did_ give permission for you to be out here, it would be with the understanding that he was with you, I'm sure."

"You're out here too," Sebastian pointed out, "You aren't allowed any more than I am."

"I came out here because I saw a _first year_ heading straight for the Forbidden Forest," Harry pointed out, "I wasn't about to let you get eaten by a werewolf or shot by centaurs. There are a lot of very good reasons why it's called the _Forbidden_ Forest, and trust me, I know most of them."

"Are you going to tell my dad I was out here?" Sebastian asked, twisting one foot nervously behind the other and still looking at the ground. "Or my Head of House?"

"That depends. If you tell me why you're out here and I think it's a good reason then I'll be quiet about seeing you out here – as long as you stay quiet about me coming after you. I've broken a lot of school rules because I felt I needed to, so I can respect when someone else breaks them for a good reason as well," Harry figured that it wouldn't hurt to try and get Sebastian to tell him the truth without too many prompts from Harry.

For the first time, Sebastian looked up and met his eyes. "You wouldn't understand," he said quietly.

"Why wouldn't I understand?" Harry gave a mental cheer.

"You're the Boy Who Lived. Father says you grew up pampered by your relatives and that all the teacher's here at Hogwarts bend over backwards to avoid punishing you for breaking the rules. I bet you never had anything bad happen to you …"

"Sebastian, have you forgotten how I got the name The Boy Who Lived? My parents were murdered and I was nearly killed as well," Harry pointed out. "I think that counts as being pretty bad, don't you?" he tried to keep the topic light, he didn't want to scare Sebastian away.

"Oh, right, well yeah that would have been pretty horrible. But Father says that your relatives would have raised you like a prince."

"Your father doesn't know me half as well as he seems to think," Harry said, smiling wryly. "Up until my Hogwarts letter arrived, I slept in a cupboard under the stairs. My relatives rarely fed me and frequently locked me up in there as a punishment. I spent most of my time cleaning the house, cooking their meals and generally doing all the chores that they didn't enjoy."

"That's not possible," Sebastian said flatly. "You're the Boy Who Lived, a hero! No one would ever treat you like that."

"I assure you, my relatives think of me as nothing more than a worthless freak. Its part of the reason I left this summer, to get away from them and all their crap," Harry said earnestly. He needed Sebastian to see him as a human being – even if he wasn't – if he was going to earn the boy's trust.

Sebastian didn't seem to have anything to say to that; he was busy gaping at Harry in disbelief. "Look, Sebastian, that's not important, I just wanted you to understand that I've been through a _lot_ of really horrific situations. Are you sure that I wouldn't understand?"

The boy nodded frantically, and Harry sighed. "I think I understand a lot more than you realise, Sebastian. I was hoping that you would tell me yourself, I thought that would be good for you, but the truth is, I already know."

"Know what?" the boy was looking down again, his breath coming faster and faster.

"I know why you are here, what you are. I just don't understand how you _can _be what you are. Somehow, you've become a half-vampire, and you don't know anything about your new people."

"They aren't my people!" Sebastian snapped with fervour. "They're monsters and they made me one of them, but they aren't my people at all!" He then looked horrified at confirming Harry's statement, and stayed quiet for a long moment before he spoke. When he did, he had managed to strip all emotion from his voice. "How did you figure me out?"

"Easy. You know how you can smell things much better now, how human blood smells like prey? Surely you've noticed that my blood is different, that I'm not prey?" Sebastian nodded slowly, fearfully, "I'm a half-vampire as well, Sebastian. So don't worry, so long as you're careful, no one else should be able to guess your secret."

"You … but … no, that's impossible!"

"You seem to think a lot of things regarding me are impossible," Harry said wryly. "But I assure you, I'm telling you the complete truth. I'm a half-vampire too, and what's more, you know that what I'm saying makes sense. It explains why I'm so different from everyone else in this school."

"Is that why you stood up for me the other day?" Sebastian asked slowly. He seemed to be coming to terms with it reasonably easily, Harry was gratified to note.

"Partially," Harry admitted. "But I hate bullies anyway, I've been bullied and I don't like seeing any one else being made a victim." Sebastian looked like he was about to protest the idea that anyone might want to bully the Boy Who Lived, but in the end he kept silent. "Hey Sebastian, it looks like we're going to be talking for a little while. How about I show you a kind-of secret place and we'll talk there? It'll be safer than standing on the edge of the Forest."

Sebastian hesitated, but curiosity overwhelmed his hunger and the desperation to find something that wasn't human to feed on. Harry led him quickly out of the Forest and up to the Whomping Willow, pushing the knot on the trunk to make it freeze. They stayed silent while they walked, Harry giving Sebastian the time to let everything sink in.

The Shrieking Shack was as dusty and broken as Harry remembered it being, but it was the work of a moment to magically clean up the room they had emerged into, conjure two chairs, a table and two cups of tea. "Sit down Sebastian – might as well be comfortable while we talk," Harry said gently, a final spell lighting a magical fire in the fireplace.

They sat in silence, drinking their tea. Harry was waiting patiently for Sebastian to say something; he knew that the younger boy would have questions, but wanted to let the younger boy ask them in his own time. Finally, Sebastian spoke:

"How can you be a half-vampire?"

"When I went home for the summer I was out walking late one night and was attacked by a Death Eater. Just before he started to torture me, he was attacked and killed by a vampire. That vampire was actually an ancestor of mine, and invited me to spend the rest of the summer with him, an offer which I was glad to accept. I was nearly killed by one of Voldemort's plots, and the only way to save my life was to at least partially turn me, which Charles did," Harry explained.

Sebastian nodded, digesting the information slowly before speaking again. "Weren't you upset with him for doing that? For making you a monster?"

Harry thought about his answer carefully. "I didn't feel that Charles had made me a monster," he said finally, "I had known him for over a month by that point and he had been very open about vampires and the way he lived his life. Had he not needed to Turn me in order to save my life, I would not be surprised if I had gone on to ask him to do so, years in the future."

"How could you _want_ to be like this?"

"Perhaps because I knew what I was getting in to," Harry shrugged, "Perhaps because Charles taught me that 'vampire' isn't synonymous with 'monster', as you seem to feel it is. Vampires are just a separate society to wizards, they have their own laws and customs, and from what I've seen they aren't all that different to wizards."

Again, he let Sebastian digest the information. "Sebastian, under Vampire Law, no child may be fed on and no child can be Turned, for any reason."

"They can't be very good laws then," Sebastian said softly.

"The punishment for breaking either of those laws is death at the hands of the Council's executioners," Harry said flatly. "Sebastian, please believe me when I say that not all vampires are like the one that attacked you. Plenty of wizards end up in Azkaban for breaking the laws, for killing people, but most of us are perfectly decent people. Vampires are no different, and once the Council becomes aware that someone has broken their law, that vampire's life is forfeit. Can you tell me what happened to you, so that I can warn the Council of the law-breaker?"

"He's already dead," Sebastian said softly, "My father killed him. But … I guess I could tell you what happened. You told me what happened to you." He was staring into the fire, as though he were trying to distance himself from the story before he even started telling it.

_It was quite late at night, about three weeks ago,_ Sebastian started slowly. _My father and I had just arrived back from our summer vacation – we always go away somewhere nice, to make up for him not being around through the school year. I was really excited, and couldn't sleep. I had to keep getting up and go and look at all the supplies that we had bought that day, ready for me to come to Hogwarts this year._

_My father was downstairs, working on some potions from the Order of the Phoenix. I know all about his loyalties, his job as a spy. He's never tried to keep anything from me; I think it's to make up for what happened to my mum. I had the Wizard Wireless on, so that he wouldn't hear me creeping around my room._

_I had just gone back to bed for about the tenth time that night when I realised that there was someone –some_thing_- else in my room. I didn't even have a chance to scream before it rushed at me, covering my mouth with one hand. It was so _strong_. I saw the moonlight shining on it's fangs before it tilted my head aside and bit me._

_I tried to fight it off, but there wasn't a lot I could do. I tried to kick or punch at it, but I was so weak that it barely even noticed what I was doing. One of my kicks caught the Wizard Wireless, and it smashed against the wall. The sound was enough to alert my father to the danger._

_He came running upstairs, and it took him like, two seconds to realise what was attacking me. The vampire was sort of holding me between him and itself. The only thing my father could do was to use a spell to cut off its head. I fell, and the vampire fell on top of me; some of the blood from its severed neck must have made it into my mouth, I don't really remember. I was really hazy from the blood loss, and I must have passed out right about then._

_It was about three hours before I came to. When I did, I attacked my father … I drank his blood! It was horrible but perfect at the same time; I managed to stop myself before I hurt him, but it scared us both. Father spent the next week doing lots of tests on me, figuring out how much damage the vampire had done._

_In the end, he realised that I wasn't a full vampire, but wasn't fully human any more either. He decided that the changes in me would be easy enough to hide, and that we wouldn't tell the Headmaster – or anyone else – what had happened to me. He is going to try and find a cure, to make it all go away and make me human again._

_Everything was going pretty well, until a few days ago when I started getting hungry again. At first I thought I just needed more human food, but no amount of eating could stop the cravings I was getting. The only thing that came close were the Blood Pops that my father bought me, and that was when I realised that I needed to drink blood again._

Sebastian fell silent, and Harry's heart went out to the boy. "So you were out trying to find animals in the forest to feed on then?" Sebastian nodded. "It wouldn't work, Sebastian, I'm sorry. We need human blood, not animal. It won't slake your thirst for blood at all, might even make it stronger. And most of the animals in the forest are thoroughly tainted by magic – their blood could easily kill you."

"Oh," Sebastian looked down, but his disappointment was plain. "So I'll need to find a human to … feed off?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, and sighed. "I was lucky enough to be Turned in a place where there were two human staff who were more than willing to let me take a little of their blood – I know they did the same for Charles, when he really needs it. Would your father let you feed from him again?"

Sebastian looked horrified by the very thought, and Harry sighed. "Speak to your father, see if he can come up with any solution for you."

"I don't want to tell him that I need to drink blood!" Sebastian cried.

"He's your father and he loves you. You should tell him what's going on," Harry said firmly, "He will be able to help, somehow. That's what parents are for."

"I guess …"

"You also need someone to teach you about vampires. You may not like it, and it may be totally against every one of our laws, but you are one of us now, and you need a mentor. You will have to be introduced to the Council as well, but I think we might have to wait a little while before doing that."

Sebastian nodded frantically, and Harry sighed. "You need a lot more time before you'll be ready for that I think. And something tells me that you aren't going to want to go anywhere near another fully-fledged vampire … so I guess that leaves me with the job of looking out for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Someone needs to teach you how things work in your new world. Like I said, there are a fair few laws and customs and you'll need to know them all, the same as I did." Sebastian tried to hold back a yawn, but Harry saw it. "But that can all wait, I guess. We should go back to the castle and you should get some sleep, and talk to your father. I'll get in touch with you in a couple of days and we can talk again, alright?"

"Alright," Sebastian nodded.

Harry led the way back up to the castle, and insisted on walking Sebastian right to the Ravenclaw common room. Outside the common room they paused. "Sebastian, when you talk to your father, could you not mention my name? This is my secret, and I would really rather it stayed as close to me as possible. I told you because I thought you needed to hear some of my story, but I don't want anyone else, not your friends and _not_ your father to know, alright?"

"I won't tell anyone about you if you don't tell anyone about me," Sebastian offered. "Except Charles, since he already knows I suppose. No one at the caslte, anyway."

"It's a deal," Harry nodded, and the two of them shook hands to seal the deal. Sebastian opened the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, and a Prefect immediately came over to see what a student was doing coming into the common room so late after curphew. Harry explained quickly that Sebastian had gotten lost and Harry had shown him the way.

"Thanks for brining him back Potter," the Prefect said, "I was starting to worry about him. Come on in Sebastian. It's long past curfew."

That done, Harry headed up to the Gryffindor tower, where Hermione was waiting for him with a frown on her face. "Harry, its _way_ after curfew!" she said sharply when Harry came through the portrait hole.

"I found a lost Ravenclaw student, and thought it would be a good idea to make sure he made it safely back to his common room," Harry reassured her, "I can probably take care of myself if there were any nasties out in the corridors, he wouldn't have been able to."

Hermione deflated a little, "Oh, well, I suppose that's alright then … but you probably should have taken him to a teacher and gotten them to walk you back here," she pointed out.

"I'll remember that next time," Harry promised as sincerely as he could manage, which just made Hermione give him a very knowing look; she knew him well enough to know that he didn't go to authority figures unless he really had to.

"Anyway, I was looking for you because Ron is _finally_ getting over this summer, he wanted to talk to you, but then we couldn't find you. He's already gone to bed I think. Maybe you could talk to him up in the dormitory?" she suggested.

"I'll go and see if he's still awake," Harry promised, heading quickly upstairs. It would be good if he could mend the fences with Ron before he got his emotions back, otherwise he would probably get angry with his friend for being so childish.

Ron was pacing around the dorm when Harry opened the door, and the two of them met eyes briefly. Ron stopped pacing and Harry stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The silence grew uncomfortably until Ron shifted his weight and started: "I don't like that you won't tell us what happened over the summer."

Harry shrugged, "I knew you wouldn't like it. I'm really sorry about that, but I've got to do what's right for me," he said.

"Will you tell us, ever?"

"Ever? Probably. But I don't know when I'll be ready."

Ron nodded slowly. "Did you tell Neville?" he asked suddenly, suspiciously.

"I haven't even told Dumbledore, and believe me he's tried a lot to get me to," Harry said. "I'm not planning on telling anyone for a long time, but when I do, you and Hermione will be among the first."

Another nodded. The silence grew, finally Ron sighed. "I'm sorry I've been such a prat so far this year … I just … you always used to trust us, and we were so worried about you over the holidays. I guess I just thought that everything would go back to normal when we got to school and it hurt when it didn't … do you think … can we still be friends?" he said the last past in a rush. Harry knew that it was difficult for Ron to talk about his emotions, so the short speech was even more amazing for that.

"Of course we can still be friends," he said, injecting as much warmth as possible into his voice. "You've always been my best friend and that's not going to change. Just … leave the summer alone, alright? It's my secret and I need you to respect that."

Ron nodded quickly. "I can do that," he promised. "Wanna go have a game of chess?"

"Please," Harry said; playing with Ron wouldn't be the same as playing with Charles, but Harry had found himself missing the nightly chess games more than he thought he would over the past week. Ron looked surprised but gratified by Harry's fervent acceptance of the game.

As they settled down in front of the fire, Harry smiled. The first week of school was over and done with now, and it looked like everything was going to be alright. Ron was back on side, and he had spoken with Sebastian. It was a shame that he had already sent Hedwig to Charles, he wanted to talk to his Sire about the events of tonight.

Ron was _very_ surprised when Harry beat him soundly in the first game, and only barely lost the second. The two of them played chess companionably well into the night.

* * *

Chapter Edited 8 July 2008

Author Notes

Added a line where Harry asked Sebastian to keep their discussion as private as possible, and not to tell Snape that it was Harry he spoke to.

Question:

_Would you like to see Sebastian Snape embrace his new status as a half-vampire, or fight it for as long as possible? Also, would you like to see Severus Snape actually succeed in creating the cure he is attempting to make for his son?_

_I'm really starting to run out of these ... if you have ideas for future questions, let me know in your review._

WolfMoon


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter Seventeen

"If I did not make it _perfectly clear_ last lesson, I expect you to be seated with your partner at all times in my classroom," Snape hissed at them when he walked into the Potions classroom on Monday; Harry and Zabini had already settled at the same desk they'd had the week before, but a few of the other students were sitting with their friends while they waited for Snape to arrive. There was a quick flurry of activity as those people went to sit in their assigned groups.

Harry watched Snape interestedly as the man jabbed his wand at the blackboard and a new potion appeared there for them to work on. "My turn to mix the potion," Harry murmured, reaching for cauldron as Zabini nodded.

In between steps of mixing the potion, Harry watched the teacher intently. Snape seemed to be even more caustic than usual, and was actually snarling at his Slytherin's _almost_ as much as the other students in the classroom. Harry and Zabini were the only students who were safe from his distemper, as he ignored them utterly.

"Do you know what's up with Snape?" Zabini murmured to Harry after Snape turned around and walked away when he had been only a few steps from their desk. "Something happen to his kid that I didn't hear about?"

"Couple of nights ago Snape found me defending his son from a group of bullies," Harry muttered back, stirring the cauldron carefully as he read and re-read the instructions on the blackboard. "I think it challenged the view he has of me, so he's trying to ignore me in an effort to pretend that nothing has changed."

"That seems a little … well _childish_," Zabini pointed out.

"Name a time when Snape's attitude toward me _hasn't_ been childish," Harry returned, smiling slightly. "I've gotten used to it. In any case, being ignored is much more pleasant than being tormented." One of the Hufflepuff students was reduced to tears by Snape's remarks as they spoke.

"That's true. He's not even treating the Slytherin's with the respect he normally does. You really shook him up Potter," Zabini said. It sounded suspiciously like a compliment. Working with Zabini went this lesson went just as well as it had the week before; Zabini prepared the ingredients easily and made sure they were within easy reach of Harry when it was getting close to being time to add them to the cauldron.

Aside from brief comments in regard to the work, and the short conversation about Snape himself, they didn't talk, but the silence between them was surprisingly comfortable, considering that they were a Slytherin and a Gryffindor trying to work together.

At the end of the lesson Harry took their sample of potion up to the front desk while Zabini cleaned up the work station. "Am I to come and see you for remedial potions tonight Professor?" Harry asked politely. Snape gave him a venomous look and shoved a stack of paper Harry recognised as the essays he had written over the holidays

"Your brewing is adequate for this class Potter, as is your understanding of the basic concepts covered last year. I have better things to do with my nights than baby-sit you. See that you improve your skills in your own time and I _might_ allow you to remain in the class next year."

"Yes sir," Harry said, nodding his head respectfully and taking the pile of papers back to his desk. Zabini gave them a curious glance, but was too Slytherin to actually ask what they were about. Harry put them carefully into his book bag and waited for Snape to dismiss the class. Privately he wondered how long Snape would be content to ignore him; if he knew the Potions Master at all, soon enough he would be back to punishing Harry for challenging his views.

"What was up with Snape?" Hermione asked Harry as they left the dungeons. Harry sighed and quickly explained about the run-in he'd had with the two Snape's, although he elaborated a little on the details for Hermione.

"You really said _that_ to him?" Hermione laughed as Harry finished the story.

Harry shrugged, "I thought it was reasonably appropriate," he grinned. "Obviously gave the bastard something to think about. I don't think that it'll last long though, everything should be back to normal on the Snape front in a week or two."

"What was that he gave you at the end of the lesson?"

"I was only allowed back into the class if I redid all the assignments from the last year and got the marks he deemed necessary to be part of his class this year. I didn't get an Outstanding, so I'm only in the class on probation," Harry explained.

"Oh, so _that's_ why you were asking for a list of potions assignments over the summer! Ron and I were wondering what was going through your head when we got the request," Hermione nodded in understanding. "How did you do?"

"Well, he just told me that my brewing skills and knowledge base are adequate for his class, and that so long as I work to improve them in my own time he'll probably let me stay for next year as well," Harry smiled a little. It was good to be able to talk to Hermione again, he supposed. She might not be anywhere near as intelligent as Charles, but was the closest he was likely to get in his age bracket.

"What was that about Snape?" Ron asked as he came in from Care of Magical Creatures. Harry sighed and shook his head slightly.

"Hermione, can you explain?" he asked, not wanting to go over the story for the third time in less than an hour.

* * *

Harry looked around the Room of Requirement, which was currently a reasonably exact replica of the Gryffindor Common room, letting a slight smile play across his lips. Around him were all the members of DA who were still in school; for this particular meeting he had asked that they bring no new people, although several students outside the original group had asked to be allowed to join.

"Welcome back, everyone," Harry addressed them once they were all seated. "I hope things are going well for all of you so far this year," he paused there when the group started calling out confirmations. Once they settled down again, he continued. "I'm quite glad that all of you want to continue with DA this year, and so I've called this meeting so that you all have a say in exactly how that happens.

"There are obviously some changes this year. The most important thing is that we have a Defence teacher who knows what she's talking about. Professor Delacour will be teaching basic defensive spells to all years this year – even first years will be taught _Stupefy_, the _Impedement_ jinx and a few of the other useful spells we covered last year. Older students will be taught a number of other useful spells for battle, ones that even I probably don't know about. Some of you may consider that Defence classes will be enough to be going on with this year, and that's fine, they probably will be.

"But I will still be holding this group, and all of you are more than welcome to continue attending. As Professor Delacour should have most of the Defensive stuff under wraps, I'm going to be focusing on battle tactics and spells. Last year I told you that the best strategy against Death Eaters is to distract or incapacitate them for long enough to escape. That is still a very valid approach, but my focus for this group this year is going to be on what to do when you can't run away. What do you guys think about that?"

"I think that's a great idea mate," Ron said immediately. The red-head seemed to be taking his regained position as Harry's best friend very seriously, and was being a little _too_ supportive of Harry's suggestions.

The other members of the group were slower to respond. Neville was the next to speak, "When we went to the Ministry last year, we went there with the intention of attacking," he said slowly, "And we did pretty well, but against the Death Eaters we were pretty out-classed. I get the feeling that things are only get to worse on that front. There won't always be the option to run away. I want to learn how to stand and fight."

Slowly the agreements came in from everyone, and Harry smiled at them again. "I'm glad we all agree on that. Something that I wanted your opinion on before we begin is what we want to do about membership this year. Last year that was easy: whoever considered the risk to be worth the gain was welcome. This year there isn't really any risk, do we want to have our doors open to everyone?"

"No," Ernie McMillan from Hufflepuff was the first to speak up. "We came here to learn when everyone else too afraid, and that's an important part of the group. Besides, learning as a reasonably small group will be much easier and effective for everyone. If we let everyone join, pretty much the entire school would want in. After all, you're teaching."

"But we don't want to have too small a group," Ginny pointed out. "The Twins are gone from the original group, and so are all of the seventh years we had. Cho Chang and Michael Corner are too busy to come this year. I think it would be better if we had a few more people to practice with, and that won't happen if we close our doors to everyone."

"Both good points," Harry mused. "Hermione, what do you think?"

"I think we should set a limit to how many people we want to have practicing here with us. Say, thirty people maximum. If we're going to be practicing battle tactics, I don't think we should let people who aren't at least in forth year join. I also think that we should let new people in by invitation only. If you find someone you think will suit the group, bring them to a meeting and we'll all have a vote about whether they should be allowed to stay."

"That works for me," Harry said, and with his approval, everyone else quickly agreed. Harry pondered the last idea he had wanted to raise – changing the name from Dumbledore's Army to something else. He was having a number of disagreements with the Headmaster this year and didn't want _his_ group to be named after the man. On the other hand, his words to Dumbledore on the subject of unity weighed heavily in his mind. Making his arguments with Dumbledore too public would _not_ promote unity. He decided to stay silent for the moment.

"Alright, is there anything else anyone wants to raise in the meeting, before we move on to the first lesson?" Harry asked, and was met with everyone shaking their heads before he'd even finished speaking. "At least you're eager," he joked, giving them a smile.

As everyone stood up, the Room changed around them, from the cosy meeting place into an open area with a few targets painted on the walls. "Everyone here who is in sixth or seventh year will have already learnt about – or mastered – the art of Silent Casting. I'm going to start off by trying to teach everyone this technique. Who here thinks that they know it well enough to use in battle?"

Not even the seventh years raised their hands, which was slightly disappointing but not exactly surprising. "Alright, well … I think it's pretty obvious why I want you all to master this technique. In battle if you are shouting your spells, your opponent will know what's coming at him-or her- and will have more time to react. If you cast the spell silently, they will have less time and will have to spend it trying to figure out what spell you've sent at them.

"Just so that you all know, Death Eaters do not make use of this technique when they are fighting, or if they do, it's not very often. I figure that either this is because they are stupid, because they enjoy the terror inspired by the spells they choose to use, or because they feel that their spells will be less powerful if they cast them silently. Or a mixture of both, which would make more sense.

"I did a lot of reading over the summer and it seems to be a fairly popular myth that the more volume you put into casting a spell, the more powerful it will be. This is not exactly true. The more _intent_ you have behind the spell, the powerful it will be. If you really mean a spell you cast, it makes sense to shout the incantation. You can achieve just as much as intent without actually speaking."

Harry drew his wand swiftly and spun around to face the targets on the wall. _Stupefy_, he thought, and a violet jet of red light flashed from the tip of his wand and struck the target dead on. There was a moment of silence behind him, then a burst of applause.

"You've been holding back in class," Hermione accused him, looking slightly awed.

Harry shrugged, and addressed the group again. "There is no reason why every single one of you wouldn't be able to do what I just did, but it takes some mental discipline to learn, especially for spells that you already learnt to cast with vocal incantations."

The rest of the lesson was spent with Harry going over his own method for silent casting, as well as outlining the explanations that McGonagall and Flitwick had used. A few hours, and a _lot_ of practice, later and everyone seemed to have found the technique that worked for them, and were having some success in applying it.

At this point, Harry called a halt. "Alright everyone, that was a great first session I think," as he spoke the room obligingly changed back to the common room replica. "At this point I'm going to be holding these sessions every Tuesday night, so try to keep that time free. I'm not going to be able to change the time for one person if you want to do something else on that night, so try not to schedule anything. If another group starts up at the same time, you _may_ have to choose between the two, but we can talk about it as a group and maybe decide to change the time of this group.

"Remember what we decided about bringing new people in. From now on, we will have a brief meeting at the beginning of every session – starting from next week – and we can discuss new people at that point. If you have anyone in mind, bring them along next Tuesday and we'll see about getting our numbers up. If you can, try and practice silent casting as much as possible before next week, I don't want to spend too much actual session time on it, but it's something that's going to be very useful for you."

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_If you want to get Sebastian a Blood Stone and a copy of the book, you will have to present him to the Council so that they can officially assign him a teacher – that official teacher will be the one to provide him with the Stone and the book. From what you have written about Sebastian's state of mind, he will not take well to being brought any further into our world at present. It is likely that he wouldn't accept a Blood Stone of his own at this point in time. I suggest at this point that you simply show him your copy of the book, if you can convince him to continue talking to him._

_Do what you can to make him comfortable with what he is now, and let him decide how far or fast he's ready to move forward. As it is a crime to conceal the existence of a new vampire from the Council, and I am already under investigation for Turning you, I have informed them of his existence, but not the specifics of who and where he is._

_My work on your cure continues to move forward, but the going is still slow. If I achieve any particular results from it, I will let you know immediately._

_So far the media response to your meeting with the Minister has been very positive. I am sure that he is pleased with the good press that the Ministry has been getting so far this week. I look forward to hearing from you regarding further meetings and how you felt they went._

_I hope you will continue to keep me up-to-date with any further news from Hogwarts. I hope your first meeting with your group goes well, and that try-outs for Quidditch are a success as well._

_All my love,_

_Charles._

* * *

Being Captain of the Quidditch team wasn't nearly as awesome as it should have been, Harry decided on Thursday evening. It had started raining just after he had woken up that morning and hadn't let up all day. It was still pouring; Harry and his team mates had been soaked to the skin within seconds of leaving the castle.

"Think we'll have many people show for try-outs?" Harry asked absently, looking out of the changing room doors. It was another ten minutes before the try-outs were supposed to begin, but no one had shown up yet.

"Should do," Katie Bell said reassuringly. "Not only does almost every student wish they were on the Quidditch team, our captain is the most famous student in the school. _Everyone_ wants a chance to be on the team with you. The weather will probably even work to our benefit. You know how many times we've had to do practice – or have matches – in the rain. Anyone who won't brave the weather to try out probably wouldn't work out."

Harry nodded slightly. It made sense, he supposed. If the weather had been fine, he would have wagered high on every Gryffindor student who could even ride a broom showing up for the try-outs. Slowly, a reasonably crowd of students assembled on the pitch, most of them clutching brooms and shivering in the wet.

"Come on team," Harry ordered once it reached the time he had set for the try-outs. His team mates groaned dramatically, but followed Harry out into the rain. Harry looked over the reasonably sized crowd of students. In spite of the weather, several students he recognised as first years were present.

"First things first, could you all mount your brooms and do two laps around the pitch?" a quick spell was enough to make sure that Harry's voice could be heard over the pounding of the rain. As he suspected, several of the students couldn't even manage to mount their brooms, let alone complete the two laps without falling off their brooms.

"OK, thanks for coming down here in the wet anyway guys," Harry smiled at them. They had wasted his time, but he had to get used to treating even (or especially) the people who annoyed him with kindness and respect.

A quick couple of spells created a covered area with a table of hot tea – courtesy of the house elves in the kitchen – and Harry sent the failed students over there to warm up a little before they returned to the castle.

Harry turned back to the people who had managed to complete the two laps, and noticed the longing looks they were sending in the direction of the tent. Another few charms set up a secondary tent, for the people who were still waiting to finish trying out, and the hopefuls happily got under cover. There were a wide range of students of all heights, weights and ages. "Alright, everyone who is trying out for Chaser, please come over here," Harry ordered, and a reasonable number of students came forward.

"You are each going to take a turn at defending the hoops. Katie Bell and Ron Weasley will be testing your ability to guard the hoops," Harry stated, murmuring in an aside to Ron, "I'll get Ginny to help Katie test you when it's your turn mate. I know you do reasonably well as a Chaser." Ron nodded; he and Katie took off quickly and passed the Quaffle to each other a few times for a warm up while they first Keeper hopeful took off.

Harry watched intently as each person took their turn guarding the hoops. Ron went last, and he did as good as job as any of the others, Harry decided. He supposed it was a rather good thing that without emotions, he would not be inclined to show favouritism to anyone.

"What do you think about Keepers guys?" Harry asked the remaining team members – Ron stayed back to let the rest of the team discuss things without having to worry about hurting his feelings for the moment.

"Ron has my vote," Katie said immediately. "He did a good job in the last game last year and he works with the rest of the team. I think that third year, Brice Penn, was just as good though, and should definitely be on the reserve team for in case Ron has a case of the nerves again. We really need a Keeper who won't freeze up."

The other team members agreed, and Harry made a few notes on a piece of parchment he had carefully charmed to be impervious to the rain. "That sounds good," Harry nodded his agreement. "We'll post the results in the common room tonight, rather than now I think," he added.

The Chaser try-outs went well; Ron played the Keeper position and they picked random groupings of three people, including the current Chasers, to take turns in trying to score to see who worked best with who, and how good they were at passing the ball and scoring. After them were the Beaters, who were sent up on brooms with a Bludger and a Beaters bat to see how well they did at keeping the Bludger away from them themselves.

Seeker tryouts were last up and Harry wasn't sure about the best way to test people for his own position. In the end he went with what Wood had done with him in his first year: throwing golf balls through the rain to see who could catch the most, and how easily they did it. It was no surprise to anyone that Harry did the best, but a second year boy – Harry thought his name was Firas Adams – also did very well and had Nimbus 2001 to use.

"You obviously made the grade, Captain," Katie grinned at him when they all trouped back into the changing rooms. "But that Adams kid gave you a bit of a run for your money. Definitely reserve material."

Harry nodded in agreement, "Considering how good trouble is at finding me, he'll probably see a few games before I graduate. What about Beaters?"

"The Creevey brother's did a great job," Ron spoke up, a little unexpectedly. "They look like they'll work really well together; maybe not quite as well as Fred and George, but well enough."

"Do you want Kirk and me to stay on the reserve team?" Jack asked.

"You were definitely the second best," Ron said thoughtfully, his eyes distant. Harry was fairly sure his old friend was mentally going over everyone's performance in the Beater tryouts. "Yeah, I think you two were the second best and we already know that we all get along with you."

"So we'll go the Creevey brothers, with Kirk and Jack as reserves?" Harry reaffirmed, waiting for everyone's agreement before he wrote the names down.

"Just the Chasers left now," Harry said, looking over the names that he had jotted down as performing well. "I think Katie should definitely stay on the team. The other two best players were, I thought, Ginny Weasley and Ian Banks."

"Ian has a history of being difficult to work with," Katie pointed out, "He's been kicked out of at least four clubs that I know of. Being a good player isn't enough to make up for that."

"I'd forgotten that. Do we want him on the reserve team?" there was a unanimous shaking of heads. The Chasers took a longer time to decide on, but eventually a fourth year student Robert Blake joined Katie and Ginny's names on the list.

"Alright team, lets get out of this rain," Harry said, "I'll go and post this in the common room. I've booked the pitch for a practice on Saturday afternoon, after that we'll be having them every Thursday evening, more if we can find time on the pitch in the run up to a match."

Half an hour later, after a long hot shower, Harry went down to the common room. The fuss of finding out who had made the team seemed to have mostly died down, but there were still a few upset – or ecstatic – students in sight.

"Harry, have you done your potions assignment yet?" Hermione pounced on him as soon as he came downstairs.

"Yeah, it's mostly done," Harry responded, picking up his bag and sorting quickly through it until he had found what he was looking for. "Why do you ask?"

"I thought I'd give it a look over for you," Hermione offered, a little hesitantly. Harry gave her a reassuring smile and handed his essay over to let her read through. He understood that she was trying to get their friendship back to the same grounds that it had always been.

He started work on the assignment Fleur had set for Defence Against the Dark Arts while Hermione checked through his Potions homework. "Harry," she spoke up after a little while and Harry looked up from the essay plan he was working on, "This is _really_ good! When did you start understanding Potions this well?"

"Probably when I spent half the summer holidays going re-doing all of last years assignments, and brewing all the potions that I've had trouble with over the years on my own, to try and figure out what I was doing wrong without Snape breathing down my back," Harry said wryly.

"Why would you do that? I thought you hated Potions."

"I need to get an O for Potions in my NEWTs if I want to be an Auror," Harry pointed out, "And that's what I want to do when I finish school. I didn't think I would be able to get into Snape's class this year, so I was going to try and learn it on my own and then sit one of those summer courses so I could get into the Aurors anyway. Then McGonagall spoke to Snape to get him to let me in, and he made it a condition that I redo all of my assignments."

"Harry, you do realise you could get into the Aurors without getting all the grades you need, don't you? The Ministry would probably let you into _any_ department even if you were totally unequipped to be there."

"I know. But I don't want to rely on my fame to get me places," Harry shrugged. "I want to know that even if I wasn't the Boy Who Lived, I could still what I wanted to in life."

Hermione gave him a relieved smile, "Sorry to bug you Harry, it's just that you've changed so much over the summer … I guess I just wanted to make sure you hadn't become the type of person who would use money or fame to make the rules not apply to them. You've been kind of … Malfoy-esque this year, only not so arrogant."

Harry just nodded slightly, bored with the conversation already. "Did you have any recommendation for my essay?" he asked politely, nodding to the parchment Hermione still had in her hand.

"Oh," Hermione blushed and gave it back, "I got distracted, sorry, Harry. There really isn't much to improve, especially considering that it's still a draft. You misspelled two words, I wrote the corrections down for you but you probably would have caught them on your own."

Harry took the parchment and found the two corrections she had mentioned. "I imagine I would have, thanks for pointing them out though," he said politely, setting the essay carefully aside. He would finish it after he had finished his outline for Defence.

"Don't worry love," Ron finished his chess game with Dean and came to flop down beside his girlfriend and kiss her on the cheek, "Harry may be able to finish his homework without your help, but I'm sure I'll still fail if you don't help me."

Hermione kissed him in return, snuggling comfortably into his arms. "You could do with taking a leaf out of Harry's book you know," she told him with a smile, "When it's time for the NEWTs, I might not be able to do your homework as well as mine."

Harry smiled at the happy couple and returned to his homework. While he was sure that being friends with them again would be a good thing in the long run, spending a lot of time with now was not something that he had really wanted to do. Ron and Hermione knew him better than anyone else in the school, and they were the two people most likely to realise that something was really wrong with him.

"I'll give you two some space," he said a few moments later, gathering up his essays, "I need to do some research in the library for these assignments, so I'll see you guys at curfew."

"Do you want some company?" Ron asked, looking away from Hermione for a few seconds; if Harry said yes, he knew that Ron would come with him, but at the same time it was very obvious that Ron wanted to stay exactly where he was.

"Thanks but I'll be fine on my own," Harry said, and left them to it.

* * *

Time rushed by in a haze of lessons, homework, research, Quidditch and DA, and before Harry knew it the first three weeks of term were behind him. Everything had been going excellently: the Quidditch team worked together like a dream, and since they had a full reserve team their practice sessions were usually just mock-matches between the two teams. Since posting the original listings for the team, Harry had been forced to make a few changes when he realised that one of the reserve Chasers worked much better with Ginny and Katie than Robert Blake, who tended to work better with the other two reserves.

DA had acquired a few new members, and pretty much everyone was able to cast at least the basic defensive spells silently, which Harry considered a fairly major achievement. He was going to try and teach them all new spells using silent casting methods, rather than let them learn by incanting the spell out loud. Working on inspiration from the Aurors, Harry organised everyone into pairs, and then sorted the pairs into larger groups.

"If you ever go into battle, the smart thing to do is not to do so alone. Have at least one other person who will be there to guard your back, and get used to working in groups as much as possible, it will be much more effective," he explained to them. "Your partner is there to watch your back, and you are to watch theirs. If they get stunned, revive them, if they look like they won't be able to block or doge a curse, then block it for them or pull them out of the way."

So far, the response to this idea had been good. Harry wasn't alone in seeing the benefits of good support. He was planning on teaching them to fight both alone and in different sized groups by using combat simulations (an idea borrowed from both the Aurors and a number of the books he had read over the holidays about ancient wizard battles), but for the moment was concentrating on teaching them a number of the spells he had picked up over the holidays.

DA was very much on Harry's mind as he stayed behind on the Quidditch pitch after sending his team mates back to the castle one Thursday night, putting away the brooms and trying to concentrate on reviewing a number of the plays he had had the team working on that day.

Finally, he gave up on the plays and put the charts away, changed back into his school robes and headed slowly in the direction of the castle. It was only just starting to get dark, and he moved slowly to savour the feeling of solitude.

He was about half way to the castle when a sudden gust of wind carried a familiar scent to him. Harry spun around and looked intently in the direction the wind was coming from. After a few seconds he saw a figure lying on the ground over by the lake edge.

Harry raced over the figure, knowing even before he reached it who he would find. Sebastian Snape was crumpled on the ground under a tree, his face pale and bloodless, and his heart only barely beating. Harry scooped the boy easily into his arms, a quick charm ensured his broom would follow behind him without needing to be watched, and he set out at a ground eating jog in the direction of the castle.

As he passed through the doors, he paused for a heartbeat, trying to decide if he should take the boy in his arms to the Hospital Wing or down to his father's office. He wasn't sure if Sebastian had said that Dumbledore knew about his affliction, so Harry decided to go for the safer route and take the boy to his father.

Reaching Snape's door, Harry kicked at it since he couldn't free a hand to knock. He heard Snape getting up painfully slowly, "Hurry! This is an emergency!" he barked at the door, and was rewarded by Snape throwing the door open.

"Pott-Sebastian! What happened? What did you do to my son?" Snape demanded, yanking the door further open and pulling Harry into the office.

"I found him like this down by the lake on my way in from Quidditch practice," Harry explained hurriedly, laying Sebastian down on Snape's desk at his teacher's commanding gesture. He stepped back so that Snape could start running diagnostics. "I don't know exactly what happened, but I can guess. Your son has been starving himself, Professor. He is too revolted by the idea of drinking human blood that he waited too long to fee-"

He was interrupted by Snape's wand appearing in his face, forcing him up against the wall, "What are you implying about my son, Potter? And what basis do you have for making this accusation?" Snape demanded, his voice soft and dangerous.

* * *

Last Edited 3 July 2008

(reloaded chapter with a small change in the section on Chaser tryouts, for clarification purposes)

Author Notes

Finished this chapter early due to lack of internet distracting me with work and reading fanfictions for the past two days. I have it back now though, so yay! Also, nearly 600 reviews! You guys rock! The story should be over 100,000 words now, so I rock too. Hope you enjoyed, please review!

Question

_Do you want Dumbledore to find about Harry/Sebastian; what would you like his reaction to be?_

WolfMoon


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter Eighteen

"Professor, with all due respect you have more important things to worry about right now," Harry pointed out. "Your son is unconscious, blood starved and dying – how I know doesn't really matter until he's better."

Snape glared furiously, probably because Harry had pointed out the truth. He withdrew his wand and returned to his son, opening a drawer and bringing out a blood pop. "That won't help," Harry said helpfully as he stepped away from the wall.

"Shut up Potter, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes I do. And it's not going to work. Sebastian has been eating Blood Pops all year and it hasn't been helping; they're enough to stop the general craving, can sustain a vampire for a few hours if they can't find something fresh, but they were created to be an enjoyable treat for a vampire, not a food source. Your son needs real blood."

Snape opened his mouth as though to protest, and then shut it again when he seemed to realise that what Harry had said made reasonable sense, and that he didn't know enough about the subject to refute the claim.

"I assume you will allow him to take your blood," Harry continued when he was sure Snape wasn't going to interrupt. "He's unconscious, so he isn't going to be able to feed properly himself. Make a cut on your wrist and bring it to his mouth – his instincts will do the rest for him but make sure you don't let him take too much."

Snape nodded and, surprisingly, didn't argue. Instead he flicked his wand, opening a wound across his wrist and held it over Sebastian's mouth. Harry watched critically as Sebastian's fangs sharpened on their own accord and he reflexively swallowed the life-giving blood. "That should be enough," Harry said quietly a short time later, as colour started coming back to Sebastian's cheeks.

"He will be alright then?" Snape asked anxiously.

"He should be fine; he'll be weak for a few days, and will probably need to take at least tomorrow off class, but he won't suffer any long term damage unless he tries to pull this stunt on a regular basis," Harry replied.

"Good," Snape said shortly, lifting his son from the desk top and taking him out of the office. "You stay where you are, Potter, you aren't getting off that easily," he called over his shoulder. Harry sighed and stayed where he was, waiting for Snape to come back. "Explain," Snape ordered.

"The place I was staying over the summer had a vampire coven near by," Harry said with a slight shrug. "Charles, the man I was staying with, was on reasonably friendly terms with them and I took the opportunity to learn something of their culture, how to recognise them and such."

"Don't play games with me, Potter." Harry raised a questioning eyebrow. "The shield you were using in Occlumency, I recognised it the moment I saw it. When he was … bitten … my son's mind developed the same shield overnight. There was a vampire attack near your home the night before you left – you were bitten then, weren't you?"

"No," Harry stated, perfectly truthfully. "It's true that vampire's develop natural mind-shields after they are Turned, but it is possible, with the right training, for a human to emulate those shields. When Charles learnt of the attacks Voldemort had been making on my mind, he enlisted the help of his vampire friends to teach me to defend it in a way that Voldemort would not be expecting. I lied to you at the start of the term – I didn't learn the technique in a book, and I didn't bother asking Charles to send said non-existent books here when you told me to."

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly. "I have spoken with your son before – he knows I am aware of what he is, and I have promised to keep his secret. I asked that he not mention to anyone that we had spoken, as I want to my activities over the summer as quiet as possible."

"Thank you," Snape ground out the words unwilling, "I appreciate you keeping my son's … affliction … quiet."

"Everyone is entitled to their secrets, unless those secrets are likely to cause harm to others. Make sure your son feeds, Professor, or he will become a danger to the students here, and will risk exposing himself to them. He has made his distaste of the idea of drinking from humans very clear, so I suggest you try and find another way to get him food."

"That was what the Blood Pops were for, Potter," Snape pointed out.

"A _viable_ food source," Harry rolled his eyes. "If I might suggest, Muggle hospitals keep blood banks for giving transfusions to patients who need them. I'm sure an enterprising wizard would find it easy enough to steal some. The blood is packaged and preserved, and while not as nutritious as fresh blood, perfectly acceptable."

Snape nodded slowly. "You will not tell the Headmaster about this?" he enquired.

"About what?" Harry asked innocently, "I found your son out by the lake, upset because he is still being picked on, and brought him down to you. We had a brief discussion about the nature of bullies and Sebastian felt much better for knowing that there was an older student watching out for him. We agreed to keep things reasonably quiet, because Sebastian would prefer not to be seen as hiding behind an older student, and because I did not want to upset my friends by letting it be well known that I was associating with you or your son."

Snape looked faintly impressed, "That was positively …"

"Slytherin?" Harry finished the sentence with a smile. "Good night, Professor." He was gone before Snape could think of a way to respond, heading back in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. Hopefully Snape would make sure that the younger half-vampire looked after himself better, but Harry knew that he would have to make a more concerted effort to make his and Sebastian's paths cross on a more regular basis.

"Harry, you were ages down there, anything happen?" Ron jumped on him as soon as he came through the portrait hole.

"Had a run in with Snape on my way upstairs," Harry said, mostly truthfully. "He didn't give me any real trouble though, so don't worry."

"Greasy git," Ron muttered, but thankfully didn't question Harry further.

Ron and Hermione had become clingy enough for Harry to actually feel vaguely annoyed with them immediately after they had forgiven each other for the fight. They had been around him _constantly_, walking him to classes, sitting with him at meals, following him to the library whenever he didn't manage to slip away during their 'relationship time'. He got the feeling that it was to try and make up for being lousy to him on the train. Thankfully they were starting to let up now, and were spending increasing amounts of time just the two of them.

It was a relief to be able to go and research the Carcer de Malus and other darker things without them constantly looking over his shoulders to see what he was doing, although he still hadn't found anything that might help him destroy it.

* * *

"Now, while we are on the subject of Heirs and the passing down of Lordship of the Ancient and/or Most Noble Houses, I will touch briefly on Inheritances, as I know it is a subject of some confusion, especially for those who have little knowledge of the ancient traditions," Professor Lenoir stated; it was nearing the end of the lesson and they had just finished their section on Pureblood Hierarchy but there was a bit of time left before the end of the lesson.

Harry had been slightly surprised to discover that as the Heir to an Ancient and Most Noble House, he was near the top of Pureblood Hierarchy; socially he would be among the most powerful people when he Inherited the title of Lord. Under him would be the Lords of Ancient Houses, and then those of Most Noble Houses, and then the Lords of up and coming Houses. It was all very complex and convoluted, but he was starting to understand it more now.

"Dating back to the beginnings of recorded history, the Lord of a House has always been the most powerful," Professor Lenoir continued, jolting Harry out of his thoughts on the recent class content. "He controls the family assets, directs their financial and political goals and organises marriages and divorces for all who fall under his care.

"In early history, Lords were chosen on their power and intelligence, so when a Lord died, his successor might be his son or his brother, a nephew or a cousin, depending on who was seen as being the best candidate. As time passed, however, the traditions became stronger and after a time the eldest son of a Lord was chosen as his successor.

"This worked well for stabilities sake, of course, everyone knew who the next Lord would be and it Inheriting the title was a straightforward affair. However, it did mean that the new Lord might not be powerful enough to defend the family name in times of strife. In order to deal with this problem, the Ancient and Most Noble Houses called upon ancient magics to bind certain gifts to their line, so that when a new man took on the mantle of Lord, he gained the ability to wield that power.

"The powers that were bound were chosen by the Lords of the time, based upon what they felt their descendants would need. A fairly well known example is that the Slytherin family bound Parsletongue to their line, although it was a talent that was reasonably common in their family anyway. Most Inheritances are kept a strictly family matter, and thus are held secret until such time as a new Lord goes through the Inheritance ritual," the bell rang, interrupting the Professor.

"That will be the extent of our coverage of Inheritances in class," Lenoir announced. "I would like you each to write a twelve inch essay on the pros and cons of using ancient magic in this fashion, due next Monday. The reading you will need to do for that essay should give you a more than adequate understanding of them. Dismissed."

"You're set to Inherit the Potter title this summer aren't you?" Zabini asked as they packed up their things. Zabini had continued to sit with Harry and Neville in Political Studies, although he rarely actually spoke to either of them.

Harry blinked. "Yeah, I guess I am," he nodded. He hadn't actually given the matter much thought, although it was hovering in the back of his mind. He would also be Inheriting the Black family title, although he thought that was being kept reasonably secret.

"That'll be interesting," Neville piped up. "I'm Inheriting the Longbottom title this summer as well. It was Great Uncle Algie's, but he died last year. Maybe we could get together in early August and compare notes – Gran will be helping me out once I become Lord Longbottom, but there isn't anyone left to help you through the Potter traditions. I might be able to help a little … I'm sure heaps of other people will too."

"It's quite unusual to see a Lord at school," Zabini reflected, "And we're going to have two of them, in the same year. Well, I suppose that's what comes of wars. It's a shame that you're both Gryffindors, from what I've heard, Slytherin provides a much better support system for Heirs."

"In that regard, it is perhaps a shame that _I_ am not in Slytherin," Harry said lightly, "Neville has the support of his family, particularly his Grandmother, and he will be well groomed for his Inheritance. As the only living member of my family, it will be more difficult for me to find support. Although as Neville pointed out, I am sure there will be no end of people willing to help me with any problems I might have."

"Am I hearing right, Gryffindor's own golden boy thinking he would have done better in Slytherin?" Zabini joked.

"In regards to being an Heir, I accept that being a Slytherin would have been of greater assistance to me," Harry corrected. "I am, however, very glad that I was placed in Gryffindor, and I would not change that."

Zabini smiled, "I was only teasing, Potter," he assured them. "I should go. Malfoy will be wanting a report on every fidget you made during class, and of course it wouldn't do for me to appear at all friendly with a pair of Gryffindors."

"Zabini is odd," Neville remarked as they watched the tall black teen saunter off in the direction of the waiting group of Slytherins.

"Very," Harry agreed.

"Do you think he's just talking to us because Malfoy wants him to?"

"I suspect that he talks to us because he wants to, and manipulated Malfoy into giving him the job of spying on us to cover up the fact that he is actually interested," Harry said, tilting his head slightly to one side as he considered the question.

"That seems rather convoluted," Neville remarked, frowning slightly.

"He _is_ a Slytherin. One of the defining characteristics of his House is cunning, along with ambition," Harry pointed out. "The Slytherins we know particularly well don't emulate the 'cunning' part, but there are a lot of students that we _don't_ know."

"And we don't know them because they are cunning enough to keep their ambitions secret," Neville nodded his understanding. It was pleasant, Harry decided, talking to Neville. Unlike Ron, the Longbottom Heir didn't need everything spelled out for him, and could actually pick up on some of the more subtle things that Harry touched on.

"You will make a good Lord Longbottom," Harry said quietly, and left Neville flushing at the praise, as he continued on his way to lunch.

* * *

Harry returned to the Restricted with yet another book that had failed to give him any further information on the Carcer de Mallus. He had almost exhausted Hogwarts' supply of books that touched on the matter at all, and had yet to find anything of use.

"Interesting reading, Potter," Zabini murmured quietly from just behind him.

"If you say so," Harry let his voice come out bored; vampire senses had prevented Zabini from sneaking up on him, as the Slytherin boy had obviously been trying to. "Nice attempt at stealth, Zabini."

The Slytherin boy flushed slightly, "You heard me?"

Harry let his lips quirk in a faint smile, "I did. If it makes you feel better, your attempt probably would have worked on anyone who hasn't spent most of the last six years foiling a Dark Lord's plans."

Zabini gave him a swift smile in return, the expression on his face saying clearly that he wanted to tell Harry something but didn't know how to start. Finally, he sighed. "Not all of Slytherin House has the same goals, Potter, for all it may seem that we do. Malfoy is only one person, however much power he has right now."

"And the rest of Slytherin gives the appearance of following him so that they will be left in peace to follow their own goals?"

"Some do follow him," Zabini admitted, "The Parkinson girl, Nott, a few others … in previous years the relationship has worked. He has been the Slytherin Poster Boy and kept everyone's attention focused on him and his doings, which has worked out to everyone else's advantage. This year though …"

"This year he is asking for more active support?" Harry guessed.

"Some of us will only be willing to keep up the façade for so long, eventually he will demand that we cross lines we aren't comfortable with, and then everything will fall apart."

"And you are here looking for allies for when that happens?" Harry guessed. Zabini nodded. "Why not go to Dumbledore?" Zabini shrugged, either unwilling or unable to answer the question. "Why come to me, then?"

"I want neutrality, Potter. You are the person most likely to protect me without demanding that I take part in the war. I know that the Dark Lord and _his_ followers will never let me do that, and I guess I didn't go to Dumbledore because I don't feel he'll let me be neutral either."

"So you think that I will give you protection without demanding a price?" Harry asked.

"I think you will give me protection without demanding a price I am unwilling to pay," Zabini corrected him.

Harry nodded his understanding. "You can speak to me under the guise of spying on me for Malfoy, can't you?" he enquired; Zabini nodded in confirmation. "Good. We should probably start studying for Potions together, so that will be able to get the best marks we can in our exams."

"When is a good time for you, Potter?" Zabini asked.

Harry did a quick review of his schedule, "I have a free period before lunch on Wednesday, you have it free too don't you? We could meet up then."

"Sounds good," Zabini confirmed. "And Potter? Thanks."

Harry's lips quirked in a smile, "For what?" he asked rhetorically. He and Zabini both understood that he was giving the Slytherin a chance to get to know him, to prove that he wasn't on the Dark Lord's side, but neither of them would ever come this close to saying it out loud again. Not until the matter was decided.

"Oh," Zabini turned just after he started to walk away and Harry looked up at him. "Professor Lenoir sent me to find you; he would like you to meet him in his classroom in an hour."

"Thanks for the message," Harry nodded, silently wondering what the Political Studies teacher wanted with him. He supposed he would find out in an hour. Harry put the problem easily from his mind and picked up another book that might contain the information he sort in regards to the Carcer de Malus.

He looked through another two books before giving up his search for the evening. A few minutes later he was knocking lightly on the door to the Political Studies, and Professor Lenoir opened it to let him in. "Ah, Mr Potter. Mr Zabini did pass on my message then? I worried that it might get lost in his attempts to further his own plans."

Harry smiled, "Mr Zabini seems rather adept at combining tasks," he said politely, watching as Professor Lenoir paced around the room. When the man didn't speak for a little too long, Harry prompted him, "What did you want to see me about, Sir?"

"Has Professor Dumbledore been speaking with you, Mr Potter?" Lenoir spoke suddenly, the words rushing out almost too fast for Harry to understand. "Has he called you to his office to speak with you about-" he stopped abruptly, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking at a more normal pace. "Has Professor Dumbledore spoken with you regarding the popular opinion that you are the _Chosen One_?"

"Professor Dumbledore and I spoke briefly on the subject at the end of last year," Harry said carefully, eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the man. Did Professor Lenoir know the Prophecy, or was he trying to find out more about it?

"So you are the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord?" Lenoir demanded, but continued before Harry could say anything, "I was almost certain it was you and not the Longbottom boy, I suppose Dumbledore has confirmed it then."

"You know the prophecy?" Harry interrupted and Lenoir started, as though he had forgotten Harry was in the room.

"I know the first part. I suppose there must have been more to it than what I heard," Lenoir admitted. "Has Dumbledore talked to you any more about that matter? About what your power is, how one could defeat You-Know-Who?"

"No. Our conversations this year have been fairly limited to my doings over the summer," Harry said shortly, moving toward the door. Voldemort had known only the first part of the prophecy, and if that was the only part that Lenoir knew, then it was likely that the man was a Death Eater. The way he generally referred to Voldemort as 'the Dark Lord' seemed to confirm that.

Lenoir caught his movement in the direction of the door and gave a sudden smile. "No fear, Mr Potter. I might once have agreed with the Dark Lord, once followed him … but I do not any longer, and I have not for a very long time. Since months before he fell."

"I'm still not going to tell you the prophecy," Harry told him softly, "It was destroyed at the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore told me only of its existence, and the same passage that _Voldemort_ knows." To his surprise, Voldemort's name didn't seem to have any effect on Lenoir.

Lenoir waved the comment away, "The prophecy is of little interest to me," he said shortly, "I do not need to know why or how you were have the power to defeat the Dark Lord and no one else does, nor do I particularly want to."

"Then what does interest you?"

"Because I have my own interests in seeing the Dark Lord defeated, and I want to be a part of his defeat. If that is going to happen, then I'm going to need to help you. There are things about the Dark Lord that you need to know, things that I was sure Dumbledore would tell you … but he hasn't, I don't know why."

"Dumbledore possibly doesn't believe me trustworthy after my actions over the summer," Harry offered an answer to the question while the majority of his mind tried to figure out what the earlier part of Lenoir's comments might mean.

"I suppose that is fairly likely," Lenoir nodded. "You've become something of a loose canon as far as Dumbledore is concerned, and I imagine that would be both shocking and worrying for him. He has been in control for so long, and now everything is getting shaken up. Yes, he must be trying to find out how much you have changed before he talks to you about this matter. He has been training you though, I assume?"

"Not as such," Harry said simply, "He has been trying to let me be a child, but things seem to keep getting in the way of that. The Chamber of Secrets, the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the Ministry involvement being the biggest of those."

Lenoir frowned, "From what I understand you never had a chance at a childhood, from the moment your parents died. You certainly haven't had a chance at one here at Hogwarts. Dumbledore usually would have seen that, I suppose he really is rather blind when it comes to you."

"I think he always felt that there would be more time. Unfortunately for all of us, time is running out," Harry said. "Professor, will you tell me what it is that I need to know?"

Lenoir started pacing, his eyes uncertain. "I have made a lot of mistakes with my life, Mr Potter, and now I find myself at a crossroads in my life. The last time this happened, I took the wrong path … I only hope that this time, I will take the right one."

Harry waited with limitless patience. Finally, Lenoir spoke. "It is hard to know where to begin, so I suppose I will start with myself. I told you already that I was once a Death Eater, but I fled the Dark Lord's service and took refuge in France, where I chose the name Lenoir. My birth name, however, is Regulus – Regulus Black. Tell me, Harry Potter, do you know anything of _Horcruxes_?"

* * *

Chapter Edited 8 July 2008

OK, so I _totally_ wasn't planning on having Horcruxes in this story, but they just wrote themselves in anyway. No one got my Lenoir/Black reference, but I suppose no one was really looking for it. He wrote himself in without asking as well, I was going to try and ignore him, but then the Horcruxes continued to write themselves in, so I gave up on trying to make it work out the way I wanted it to.

Also, sorry for the abysmally short chapter; I haven't had a lot of spare time at work in the last little while, but I wanted to get something up (mostly so that I would have shiny new reviews to read when I take my little breaks between tasks). I have finally figured out how the story is going to end (I couldn't remember how I planned on destroying the Carcer de Malus, but I've come up with something that I think will work well).

My original plan for this story sort of fizzled out around here; there were a few little things that I wanted to have developing, but nothing particularly major was planned until the big fight at the end. I'm now struggling a little to find events to fill in the time gaps, and still have everything developing at the right time in the story. It's giving me some trouble. The next few chapters may be a little chaotic, until I get to the next set of events.

Question: _How soon would you like Harry to get his emotions back? How would you like them come back – all at once, or over a short period of time?_

**Please let me know what you think of Regulus' appearance in the story also!**

Thanks for reading,

WolfMoon


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Harry Potter and the Ties of Blood**

Chapter Nineteen

"_What do you know about Horcruxes_?"

"Can we backtrack a little?" Harry enquired, perfectly polite even though the words he had just heard should have shocked him to the core. He remembered Sirius telling him a long time ago that he had a brother named Regulus, who had joined the Death Eaters and been killed by Voldemort when he tried to leave. "Regulus Black – you're Sirius's brother?"

Lenoir – Regulus – nodded. "Yes," he said, allowing Harry to come to terms with what he had just said. "Something tells me that it will come as no surprise to you to learn that Sirius was never a Death Eater, he was incarcerated without trial for a crime he never committed."

Harry nodded absently, "Yes, I know that. I met him in my third year here, and he told me the real story. Unfortunately Peter escaped before we could get him to the Ministry, so we were never able to prove his innocence."

"Doesn't surprise me that Sirius found you, you meant the world to him. Must have killed him, knowing that you believed he as good as murdered your parents," Regulus mused. "I … I heard that he was at the Ministry of Magic last year, and he … died there."

"It's true," Harry said simply. "Bellatrix stunned him and he fell through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries."

Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, pain showing briefly on his face before he had his emotions under control, the perfect Pureblood mask back on his face. "I always wanted to come forward, to try and convince the world that he was innocent, to get him out of that godforsaken prison and re-united with you."

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked.

"I couldn't let any of the Death Eaters who were still free learn that I was still alive, not before my work was done. I hid in France under an assumed name – Lenoir means 'the black' in French, I couldn't quite bring myself to give up my name entirely – for many years. I took up my post teaching here during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, because I know that the Dark Lord was stirring and that I would need to be closer to the action."

"What were you doing in France that was so important?" Harry questioned, for the first time actually curious. This could be useful to him in some way. "And Sirius told me you _were_ a Death Eater, didn't Voldemort kill you?"

Regulus flinched a little at the name, but shook his head. "To answer your second question first, I was a Death Eater. I joined the Dark Lord's ranks straight out of Hogwarts, convinced that he was finally doing what was right for the world and purging it of the filth that had found its way into our society. It took me about a month to realise that while I agreed with the Dark Lord's goals, I didn't like his methods.

"I stayed in the Death Eaters for nearly a year, out of fear and out of a growing desire to see the Dark Lord destroyed; the things he did were abominable, and I knew that someone had stop him, and that they would need inside information to do so. For a long time I wanted to be that person, to be the hero and make up for the mistakes I had made, but after awhile I realised that I wasn't anywhere near powerful enough.

"I spent that year researching the Dark Lord and finding out as much as I could of what he was doing to become immortal, so that I would be able to tell someone with the power to defeat him, like Dumbledore, what he was doing. Somewhere along the line he came to suspect me, and eventually he ordered my death. I don't think he realised that my treachery had gone as far as it had, because he sent one of the rank-and-file Death Eaters to do the deed. I modified his memories so that he would remember killing me, and fled England entirely," Regulus let the story pour out, and Harry got the feeling that he had been getting desperate to tell someone.

"As for what I was doing in France, it was a continuation of what I had been doing in the Dark Lord's service – trying to find a way to destroy him. And _that_ takes us back to my earlier question for you: Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

Harry frowned slightly, thinking back to the summer. The word was familiar, he was sure that he had come across it when he had researched the Carcer de Malus in the Potter library. "It's a very dark object," he said slowly, the information coming back to him. "It's created when a dark wizard splits his soul and stores half of it in an object – the Horcrux."

"Correct," Regulus nodded, "I'm surprised that an innocent Gryffindor such as yourself would have any knowledge of such a dark artefact, Mr Potter."

"Innocent?" Harry arched an eyebrow, allowing a faint smile to play across his lips. "Hardly. I found the information when I was researching a new weapon that Voldemort has uncovered. I'd forgotten about it until you mentioned them."

"New weapon?" Regulus asked, but Harry shook his head slightly. He didn't know that he could trust Regulus, and he certainly didn't want to let word of the Carcer de Malus spread to people he wasn't sure of.

"So what about Horcruxes?" Harry turned the discussion away. He felt that Regulus could _probably_ be trusted, but he was far from certain. At the very least he was going to hear the man out, and then think on what he had to say.

"The Dark Lord did a lot of research into becoming immortal, and he found the Horcrux spell, which he decided to use as a fall back measure while he tried to find something better."

"So he has a Horcrux and that was how he survived when he attacked me as a child?" Harry questioned, making sure he was following the story correctly.

"I wish it were that simple," Regulus sighed, "Just before he sent someone to attack me, I located his Horcrux and managed to steal it away, leaving a replica in its place. I was going to take it somewhere safe and destroy it …"

"But?"

"Well for a start at the time I didn't know how to destroy it, so I left it at my parents house and planned to go back for it … but the Dark Lord ordered my death before I could, and since I decided to let the world believe me dead, I never did get to. Also, just before my 'death' and disappearance, I discovered a very unsettling piece of information: the Dark Lord created more than one Horcrux."

"Do you know how many?" Harry asked quickly.

"That's what I have been doing all of this time in France," Regulus explained wearily, "Trying to identify and locate all of his Horcruxes. Given the recent activity in some of the areas I had suspicions about, I believe that Dumbledore is aware of them as well, and is trying to find them. I'm afraid I didn't manage to find out the exact number that the Dark Lord created. Initially I thought three, as it as a number of some significance, but I know of at least four, so that assumption was invalid."

"So more than four," Harry shivered involuntarily. He remembered what he had read about Horcruxes, and he knew that no one had ever tried to split their soul more than once. Even going that far was terrible, but to try it twice, let alone four or more times. "He truly is a monster," Harry spoke the conclusion of his thoughts out loud.

"Only just realising that, Potter?" Regulus sounded amused, in an almost hysterical way.

"I've always known that he was _monstrous_, but … even given everything I've seen of him, I still thought he was at least mostly human. Twisted and _bent_, but human. If he has done what you say then he can claim only the most tenuous of links with humanity."

"That's Merlin's honest truth," Regulus agreed, and for a few moments they were quiet.

"So why are you telling me all this?" Harry asked eventually.

Regulus gave him a surprised look, "I already told you that I know you are the one destined to fight the Dark Lord. If you want to have even the slightest chance of succeeding, you'll need to destroy all of his Horcruxes to render him mortal before he can be killed."

"I suppose I will," Harry nodded. "Thank you for telling me this, Professor Lenoir."

"In private, I would prefer you call me Regulus. After all, you are my god-nephew, if such a thing exists, and my adopted nephew, if it doesn't."

"Adopted?" Harry questioned, the faintest stirrings of surprised curiosity filtering through to him.

"When you were born, Sirius was named your godfather. The war had already started back then, and Sirius didn't want to have children while the world was still under threat. At the same time, he desperately wanted to know that something of him would survive the fight. He absolutely adored you, and he asked permission to do a blood adoption ritual on you and make you his Heir, unless he had any other children."

"Blood adoption," Harry whispered. He had heard of this, both back at Potter Manor and during his political studies class. "That ritual means that I have some of his blood in my veins," he recalled, "I am, both legally and actually Sirius's son." The realisation provoked enough emotion that his eyes filled with tears, and two drops ran down the sides of his face. They dried up again within seconds, but Harry knew that he would be writing to Charles again tonight.

"I read recently that he left everything to you in his Will; because of the blood adoption, you will still inherit the Lordship of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black even if I ever were to let it become public knowledge that I'm still alive," Regulus explained.

"I'm sorry," Harry said automatically, "I wouldn't want to cheat you out of your Inheritance-"

"It doesn't matter to me at all," Regulus assured him, "Better it go to you, really, for a great deal of reasons that I don't really want to go into."

"Once I've Inherited, if there is anything I can do for you – money, a place to live, anything I can help with as the Lord Black, I will do it," Harry promised, mostly on a whim. He felt the tingle of his blood magic a little too late, binding him to his oath.

"Thank you," Regulus whispered, eyes full of emotion that he couldn't quite hide behind his mask.

Harry nodded a distracted acknowledgement, internally going over what he had just said to Regulus, burning the words into his memory so that he would know exactly what he had promised should Regulus ever come to collect.

"So, what are we going to do about the Horcruxes?" he asked after Regulus had gotten himself under control again, and he was convinced that he wouldn't forget his promise. "You said one of them was at the Black House, is that the one at Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes," Regulus nodded quickly. "I tried to get back into the house for it after _he_ returned, but I wasn't able to. I suspect it's under the Fidilius Charm, given how hard I tried to get in."

"It is," Harry said absently, "I know the secret; I can get the item if it's still there."

"The family house elf, named Kreacher, knew something of its significance," Regulus told him, "He promised me that he would keep an eye on it, and make sure it remained safe within the house."

"I know Kreacher," Harry said softly, "I made a deal with him when I inherited him from Sirius that he could keep the things of true importance to him, so long as they weren't completely dark."

"I think a Horcrux would be considered completely dark," Regulus remarked, "But that makes things easy. If you inherited him, then you can summon him and I will ask him if he still has the object."

Harry nodded. "Kreacher!" he called, and a second later the elf appeared, bowing to Harry before looking at where he was.

"Master Regulus!" Kreacher half-screamed half-sobbed, flinging himself at the Political Studies teacher and hugging him tightly around the knees, blubbering indecipherably into his robes.

Regulus patted him gently on the head, "Hello Kreacher, it's good to see you again. Did you do as I asked?"

"Oh yes Master Regulus Sir, Kreacher is keeping it safe for you," the elf babbled, "Kreacher is keeping it where no one notices, does Master Regulus want Kreacher to get it for him?"

"Not just yet Kreacher, just make sure you keep it safe."

"Always, Master Regulus," the elf promised fervently, before coming to the realisation that Harry was still in the room. "Kreacher is sorry Master Harry, what is he being needed for?"

"I called you here to speak with Regulus," Harry reassured the elf. "Why don't you get back to whatever you were doing before I summoned you?"

"Yes Master Harry, Kreacher will be doing that now," the elf said, vanishing with a crack.

"It's still safe," Regulus whispered thankfully. "Now all the remains is finding the rest of them, and then figuring out how to destroy them, then you'll actually be able to kill the Dark Lord when the time comes."

"Should I tell Dumbledore that I know about the Horcruxes, he might know the locations of the other ones, or know how to destroy them," Harry asked. "He would probably be of a lot of help in finding them even if he didn't already know."

Regulus frowned, "This has been my quest, my life's work, for so long. It was hard for me to even share it with you, knowing that you are our prophesised saviour … on the other hand, it would be interesting to be a fly on the wall if you went to Dumbledore and told him straight up that you knew about the Horcruxes."

Harry smiled by rote. "His reaction would be interesting, especially since he is apparently keeping his knowledge of them secret," he agreed politely. "Perhaps we shouldn't involve him just yet … if he did not choose to trust me with this information, then I see no reason to let him know I have it."

"You and the headmaster really are at odds this year," Regulus remarked, shaking his head slightly. "But I agree with you; if he's keeping secrets from you, he can hardly expect you to do anything other than keep secrets in return."

"You know of four Horcruxes you said, do you know where they are? Have you identified them yourself?"

"Only one, the one that Kreacher has. It is a locket, one that was owned by Salazar Slytherin. I know that he managed to get his hands on a cup owned by Helga Hufflepuff, and that he later entrusted it to Bellatrix Lestrange – I am almost certain that he made it a Horcrux. I think it logical to assume, then, that he located items belonging to the other two Founders, and made them Horcruxes as well."

"How would you tell that something was a Horcrux? From what I read, you can make one out of anything, even living beings," Harry said slowly.

"That's true, although making a Horcrux out of a living being would be a little stupid, considering that a living being would have a will of its own and would be able to live its life against the wishes of the Dark Lord that created it. It would be a little too easy to lose track of, but I suppose it would work well enough if you were desperate."

"So we can probably rule out living beings," Harry said softly, "Voldemort isn't a stupid person, if he was, he wouldn't be nearly as much of a threat. It doesn't answer my question though – how do you tell?"

"I am not entirely sure how you would tell if it were a Horcrux. I know that the Dark Lord chose items that were of some significance to him – the locket of Slytherin was a family heirloom, and the rest of the Founders are well known figures of power in our world. Having something from each of them would have been a bit of a power trip for him. I am convinced that Slytherin's locket is one because of its location, and because it resisted all my initial attempts to destroy it."

Harry nodded again. "I was just asking because in my second year, a diary was brought to this school by Lucius Malfoy. The diary was blank, but when you wrote in it, the ink would be absorbed, and then _something_ else would write back to you, in the same ink. It was capable of possessing people, and caused a student who found it to open the Chamber of Secrets. The person writing back turned out to be a sixteen year old Voldemort."

"That definitely sounds like a Horcrux," Regulus agreed immediately, "What happened to this diary?"

"I stabbed it with a basilisk fang," Harry admitted. "All the ink came out and the memory of Tom Riddle – Voldemort's birth name – faded away to nothing. I gave it back to Lucius Malfoy afterwards, but I think it was well and truly destroyed."

"I think so too," Regulus looked a little pale, "Basilisk venom is an extremely potent substance, it should have been strong enough to destroy the soul fragment in the Horcrux. If you saw the memory of the young Dark Lord fade away, then I think it very safe to say that particular Horcrux is gone."

"That's five, too," Harry pointed out, and Regulus shivered. "Do you know of any others?"

Regulus sighed and shook his head, "I know that he entrusted one to Bella – the cup – and that he entrusted something of deep importance to Lucius, which must have been the diary. The locket was hidden in an ocean-cave by a town I think he grew up in. I think he may have hidden something in the village of Little Hangleton. That's where the graveyard that he picked to return to life in."

"His father died there," Harry said softly, "So that must have been where his parents lived, I think he killed his father there."

"I didn't know that," Regulus murmured, "But it would make sense. Killing his father there was one way of asserting his dominance over the place, leaving a Horcrux would be another, as would holding the rebirthing ceremony there. He has always placed a great deal of significance in such things…

"In any case, you must surely be getting hungry now, and I am due back in France for dinner with my fiancé," Regulus shook off the mood and brought their meeting to a close. "I had mostly wanted to maker sure that you were aware of the Horcruxes, since it didn't _seem_ like Dumbledore was going to. I will continue to look for them, as I am sure the Headmaster will, this part of the fight doesn't really need to be your problem."

"Good," Harry nodded, "Voldemort has already left a lot of problems on my plate, it was going to be difficult to find the time to deal with another of them, especially since I doubt one would be here at Hogwarts, and I'm not generally supposed to leave the castle."

"Actually, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he _had_ left a Horcrux in the castle; it is another of the reasons I came to teach here," Regulus corrected him. "As I told you before, he places a lot of significance in places and objects of power or history. Hogwarts would be the ultimate place to leave something he considered precious."

Harry sighed and nodded, "I suppose you are right, it would make a lot of sense for him hide one here. If I find the time, I'll try and figure out where he might have left it," he said, although he already had a fairly good idea. "I'll let you know if I hear anything of interest."

"And I will do the same," Regulus assured him. "We could perhaps meet up again sometime for a less ominous discussion, I have enjoyed talking with you, Mr Potter, and being able to share my secret with someone after all this time."

"I'll try and find time to come and see you then, sir," Harry promised, "But I'm quite busy, with Quidditch, DA, classes, homework and some other research I've been working on."

"I understand," Regulus assured him. "Take care of yourself, Mr Potter. Good night."

Harry walked slowly back to the Gryffindor common room after the meeting with Regulus, digesting all of the information. It was ever so slightly disturbing to consider how completely twisted Voldemort was, to have split his soul Merlin knew how many ways. Harry wrote a mental note to go down to the Chamber of Secrets and see if he could find anything resembling a Horcrux down there; it seemed the most likely place for Voldemort to have hidden something in the castle.

"There you are Harry," Hermione sang out when Harry climbed through the portrait hole. "Where have you been?"

"Professor Lenoir wanted to see me," he explained absently.

"He's the Political Studies teacher, isn't he?" Hermione asked, frowning at the slightly unfamiliar name. "You know, I've never seen him around the castle, where does he live?"

"He lives in France," Harry explained, "He's got some sort of magical link between his house and his classroom here."

"But … how would that work? All the wards around the castle should stop you from being able to establish a link like that," Hermione said, frowning at the puzzle. Harry shrugged, but she'd already stopped paying attention to him, her mind focused on trying to figure out how the magic was done. "Damn, curfew already, I wanted to go and check the library," she said a minute later, getting up from Ron's lap. "I'm just going to check my copy of _Hogwarts: A History_," she announced, heading up to the girl's dorm.

"Thanks mate," Ron said, voice laden with joking sarcasm. Harry gave a slight smile in return.

"I'm going up to the dorm," Harry told his friend, "I need to write a letter home, but I'll be down later for a game of chess if you like."

"Sure," Ron sighed. "I suppose I should get started on that assignment for Flitwick."

"Isn't it due tomorrow?" Harry asked; he'd finished the assignment last week.

"Yeah," Ron sighed dramatically again. "I got distracted," he explained, "And I didn't want to say anything to Hermione, because she'd get all angry at me leaving it to the last minute. Do you think you could give me a hand with it?"

"I could read over it when you're done," Harry offered, already heading toward the stairs to the boys dormitory. He didn't really want to waste time looking through Ron's essay, but it was the sort of thing a mate would do, and he was sure that he want Ron and Hermione to still be close once he got his emotions back.

"Thanks mate," Ron called after him. Harry spent a long time in the dormitory that evening, writing down the important details of his conversation with Regulus so that Charles would be kept up to date. He also included a section about his emotions, and the fact that he had cried when he realised that Sirius had actually made him his son. He thought that Charles would especially want to know about that.

Once his letter was finished, he lay on his bed for awhile, enjoying just being alone, out of the crowd of students that he had no connection to, not needing to pretend to feel anything for anyone. He caught sight of the dreamcatcher as he lay there, and sat up with a sigh, unfastening it from the wall and touching his wand to the stone in the centre and whispering the words to a spell he'd memorised before returning to Hogwarts.

He sank immediately into his mind, watching the dreams and memories unfold as though from a distance, not truly a part of them. He watched as Sirius fell through the Veils again and again, saw Cedric's lifeless eyes staring at him. Those were his own nightmares, he was sure, but there were others, featuring the torture and death of people he didn't know, and he knew that Voldemort had sent these to plague his sleep.

* * *

"Harry," Fleur greeted him the next morning just before sun rise as he jogged down to meet her at the edge of the forest. "I haven't seen you for a few days."

"Sorry," he apologised by habit, "I've been a little busy with my homework, can't always get away in the early hours of the morning. I've just been practicing whenever I find the time."

Fleur nodded and the two of them settled into their morning routine. Since that first morning, Fleur hadn't said anything about it was that she needed to find out if he was worthy of, and the _other_ness that he had seen in her eyes that day hadn't shown itself again. It was pleasant, and Harry enjoyed their mornings together as much as he enjoyed anything these days.

Once they were done, they walked together up to the castle for breakfast. "How is your Defence group going?"

"We're an offence group this year," Harry said offhandedly, "It's going fairly well, I think. I'm teaching them a lot of Auror grade magic, I was researching it all summer. If they ever get attacked and can't run, they'll stand a chance."

"You are not teaching them to incapacitate and run away any more?" Fleur asked, sounding almost disapproving.

Harry smiled winsomely at her, "We've got a competent Defence teacher this year," he pointed out, "She's teaching us everything we need to know about how to incapacitate, to defend ourselves from the dark magic itself. I don't really need to cover that again, although we do spend some time on defence spells every session as well. I'm just focusing on attack, for when they _can't_ get away."

Fleur smiled at the compliment, and they walked in silence for a little while. "You should come to The Burrow for Christmas," Fleur said suddenly, just before they reached the castle doors.

"Why?" Harry asked, surprised.

Fleur paused, then shrugged her shoulders uncomfortable, "It would be good; the Weasley's missed you over summer, and my family will be there, I would like for you to meet them …" she trailed off, "Please, think about it?"

"I'll think about it," Harry said slowly, "But I had already made plans for Christmas with a good friend of mine."

"It doesn't have to be Christmas day," Fleur told him, "Just come to The Burrow over the holidays, for a little while. Please?"

"I'll think about it," Harry promised again, and Fleur nodded, realising that was the best she was going to get out of him. They walked into the Great Hall together, separating to go to their own tables for the meal. The few male students up this early in the morning gave Harry their customary jealous glances. More than a few of the students seemed convinced that he and Fleur were having an affair, although no one said as much to either of their faces.

An owl Harry recognised as belonging to Charles landed while he was eating his breakfast, and he frowned. He'd sent Hedwig out last night, so this couldn't be a response to the letter that he had just sent. He broke the seal and read the brief letter quickly.

_Harry,_

_Try and get the Headmaster to let you out of the castle this weekend, I have made a breakthrough._

_Charles._

Harry stood up immediately and went up to the staff table, where Dumbledore was sitting. "Harry, my dear boy how can I help you?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

"You remember the matter I spoke with you about at the beginning of the term?" Harry spoke softly, but chose his words with care just in case. Dumbledore shivered slightly, but nodded, "The friend I was staying with over summer has found something he thinks might be important, but he won't trust it to a letter. He wants me to go home briefly on the weekend to speak with him."

"I don't know if that's a good idea …" Dumbledore trailed off uncomfortably. Harry knew that the headmaster was trying to say that he didn't want Harry out of his sight and out of his control.

"It isn't supposed to be a good or bad idea," Harry said shortly, "And I'm not really asking your permission, Headmaster, I'm letting you know that I'm going home on the weekend, for a little while. I will probably spend Saturday night there and return to the castle early on Sunday morning."

The twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes, "Harry-" he started, voice full of disapproval.

"I am sorry if I seemed disrespectful, sir," Harry interrupted smoothly, voice perfectly apologetic, "I didn't mean to. I will be going because it could be truly important to the war, and so there is really no choice about my going."

"I suppose you are right," Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement. "I do wish you would trust me, Harry. We would make a formidable team."

"I would find it easier to do that if you trusted _me_, Headmaster," Harry said simply, and returned to the Gryffindor table before Dumbledore had a chance to respond.

* * *

"_Open_," Harry hissed at the sink in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom; his classes were finished for the day and he was taking the opportunity go and investigate the Chamber of Secrets, looking for Voldemort's Horcrux.

The sink moved away and Harry stepped immediately into the pipe that was exposed, falling rapidly down under the foundations of the castle. When he reached the bottom, his robes were covered with slime, and his feet crunched disconcertingly on the bones of small creatures unlucky enough to get stuck down here.

"_Scourgify_," Harry murmured, waving his wand at himself. His robes were returned to their immaculate appearance, and another quick spell had a ball of light floating above his head and illuminating the way.

The last time he had been down here, Harry hadn't been in any mood to appreciate the surroundings; he had been too scared that a basilisk would appear out of nowhere and try to eat him. Now he was paying a little more attention. There were carvings of snakes all along the walls, and what looked like torch brackets, although there were no torches to be seen. It would have been very impressive once, Harry thought, although now it was just damp and mouldy and unappealing.

It didn't take him long to reach the place where the cave in had separated him from Ron in his second year; the tiny hole that Ron had managed to create for Harry and Ginny to crawl through had shifted and was no longer an option, but that was alright; Harry knew a lot more magic now. A few spells banished the rocks and repaired the roof, so it wouldn't happen again. Harry stepped over the shed basilisk skin and continued on his way.

Soon enough he reached the doors to the Chamber itself. "_Open_," he hissed again, and they did. The first thing that Harry noticed was the stench of rotting basilisk; he gagged and barely managed to perform a spell that would keep him from smelling it. The corpse was right near the door and absolutely disgusting. Harry spent a few more minutes clearing it away. If he had thought about it earlier, he could have harvested the parts for potions ingredients, but it was far too late for that now.

A few more charms took care of the foul scent in the air, and when Harry reversed the spell that had prevented him from selling anything he gave a sigh of relief. The air now smelt perfectly fresh, and left Harry to deal with his next problem: trying to find the Horcrux down here.

Not really expecting any results, Harry raised his wand and incanted, "_Accio Horcrux_." Nothing happened, and Harry tried the spell again, this time only thinking the incantation, but willing with all his might for the object to appear. Again, nothing.

"Well, that would just be too easy," he remarked with a sigh, and set around examining the chamber itself. He was struck by the beauty of it: the first time he had been here, it had been a sinister place. He had come to rescue a student from the jaws of death, and he hadn't really thought of it as anything other than terrifying.

He walked through the forest of pillars, all carved intricately with serpents and decorated with emerald eyes that glittered faintly when Harry's light shone on them. It took him almost an hour to cover every inch of ground in the Chamber, but there were no immediately apparent hiding spots, or any objects to be seen at all.

Pulling his Firebolt out of his pocket, Harry whispered a quick charm to return it to its normal size, and mounted. He took off quickly, soaring up to hover in front of the massive carving of Salazar Slytherin himself. "_Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four_," he commanded in Parsletongue, remembering the words that Riddle had used to summon the basilisk.

Slowly, Slytherin's mouth opened, and Harry peered warily inside. If he had been able to feel fear, he might have been afraid that there had been more than one basilisk, as it was he felt a little nervous, and took what precautions he could. There was nothing moving inside, and when he directed his ball of light to go in ahead of him, there was no giant snake inside.

The hidden chamber here was massive, and would have left the basilisk with plenty of room when it was curled up here, presumably sleeping away the centuries while it waited to be called. It was also completely empty, now that the basilisk itself was gone. Voldemort obviously hadn't left anything in here.

With a frown, Harry flew down and landed again. The Chamber of Secrets made an obvious hiding spot for Voldemort; he would have considered himself the only person who knew where the entrance was, and also the only person able to get inside. Perhaps there were further secrets hidden within the chamber.

A glance at his watch told Harry that he wouldn't have time to explore that theory immediately, as it was already nearly dinner time. He would have to come and explore more thoroughly, try to uncover any further secrets he could down here some other time.

Not bothering to dismount from his broom, Harry flew back up the tunnel, and then up the pipe, emerging into the bathroom once more. Myrtle still wasn't present, Harry was happy to note as he slipped out of the door and headed for the Great Hall, his broom once more shrunk and hidden in a pocket.

* * *

As he was passing the library on his way down to the Great Hall, Harry saw a group of first year students emerge, talking excitedly amongst themselves. In the middle of the group he saw Sebastian, smiling at his friends and looking healthier than Harry had ever seen him before. Sebastian noticed him as well, and quietly excused himself from his friends, dropping back to walk beside Harry.

"Hey Sebastian, how are you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Reall good," Sebastian smiled, "I've got _friends_ in my House now, and sometimes people from other houses talk to me as well."

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry told him. "Are you enjoying Hogwarts more now?"

"Yeah," Sebastian nodded enthusiastically. "It's much better now. The lessons are kind of interesting, but sometimes they are too easy and sometimes they are too hard, not a lot of the in-the-middle, you know?"

"I remember the feeling," Harry said, thinking back to his own first year. He had been more concerned with the Philosopher's Stone and Quidditch than his lessons that year.

"I … I wanted to thank you, too," Sebastian said quietly, sounding embarrassed now, "Dad said that you found me down by the lake that night, and that I would have d-died if you hadn't brought me back to the castle."

"You're more than welcome. I noticed you've been looking healthier since then."

"Dad is making sure I take care of myself," Sebastian explained, a trace of disgust in his voice telling Harry that he was no closure to accepting what he was than he had ever been. "He went and got me blood from a Muggle hospital place and made sure I drank it. It was gross, but … I feel a lot better now."

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry smiled again. "If you need someone to talk to about all of this, please don't hesitate to come and find me, or send me an owl and I'll meet you somewhere."

Sebastian looked nervous at his feet, and shrugged. Harry didn't push the issue, knowing that when he was ready, Sebastian would come to him. He just had to keep making sure that the kid knew he was there, and make sure he didn't get himself killed. "Anyway," Sebastian spoke up again, "I've got to and catch up with my friends. I just wanted to say thanks."

Harry was smiling as he watched Sebastian run off, following the boy at a more sedate pace down to the Great Hall for dinner. As he passed the Slytherin table, he saw Zabini give him an inconspicuous wave, and nodded slightly in acknowledgement as he headed over to the Gryffindor table and his friends.

"Come sit with us, Harry," Neville invited from between Ginny and Seamus. Ron and Hermione hadn't come down to the Great Hall yet, so Harry went and joined them, listening with half an ear as Dean – sitting on Ginny's other side – tried once again to explain football to Neville, with Seamus occasionally butting in with less than helpful comments.

Throughout the meal, his mind was focused on the upcoming weekend, when he would be going home and seeing Charles again. He wondered what his Sire had discovered that was important enough to call Harry away from Hogwarts.

* * *

Chapter Edited 16 July 2008

Author Notes

Sorry this chapter took awhile to get out. I was all busy and distracted. Next week my bosses are away, so I might have some extra time for writing, although I'm not sure. They might leave me with lots of work to do.

Question:

_Since I am using Horcruxes, do you want me to use the full-Canon ones – Harry, Nagini, the Cup, Ring, Diadem and Locket – or try and go more my own way?_

I've already made up my mind on a few of them, but I would like to see your input on the others. (No, I won't tell you which ones I've made my mind up on). Bear in mind that what Regulus said earlier in the chapter is just what he, the character, thinks. He doesn't know for sure, and so might have guessed wrong on some of them!

WolfMoon


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